


Born for Adventure?

by PhiladelphiaBurke



Category: Styx (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anachronistic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Death, Band Fic, Bizarre Humor, Character is in disguise in drag and likes it, Description Porn, Dressing in Drag, Everyone's in disguise, F/F, Families of Choice, Finger Sucking, Gender Roles, Gender non-conformity, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Inspired by Monty Python, Inspired by Princess Bride, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Parody, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Please Don't Take This Seriously, Polyamory, Robbery, Robin Hood AU, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking, VERY anachronistic vocabulary, allusions to abusive relationships, but that's ok it's a parody, euthanization of a beloved pet, not intended to be a realistic version of polyamory, society moving from heteronormativity to inclusivity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiladelphiaBurke/pseuds/PhiladelphiaBurke
Summary: So: he had fallen deeply in lust with someone, offended them, and now they were going to stab him to death. This wasn’t going to be a very heroic tale, if he lived long enough to write it down.
Relationships: Chuck Panozzo/Original Male Character, Dennis DeYoung/James Young (briefly), John Panozzo/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Tommy Shaw/Dennis DeYoung (one-sided), Tommy Shaw/James Young
Comments: 17
Kudos: 6





	1. The Legend

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: This is the stupidest thing I have ever written in the history of stupid, stupid things. It is pretentious as it is pornographic. It is a 12-car pileup of purple prose, tropes and cliches. It may be the dumbest thing since “My Immortal.” But somehow I had to do it.  
> Dennis sounds very over the top and flowery a lot of the time because that’s how his songs sound.  
> Notes: Many of the place names in here are references to people who, like me, used a creative work to get through a difficult time in their life and express their feelings- both for good and for ill. These include “Madison,” “Glandelinia,” and “Abbieannia” from the works of Henry Darger (watch “In the Realms of the Unreal,” it’s a great documentary or the Down the Rabbit Hole video), an artist who was based in Chicago, so it seemed fitting.  
> “Borovnia” and “Voluminia” are references to “Heavenly Creatures” (although I do not endorse the actual murder on which the film is based) “Marwencol” is a reference to the project of the same name by outsider artist Mark Hogancamp.  
> Everyone is playing earlier versions of the instruments (in Dennis’s case, the accordion) their real-life equivalents know how to play. I’ve done my best to be historical about this, but I probably screwed up. File it under anachronistic humor.  
> The character Dorabella is supposed to be the girl in the “Love is the Ritual” video. My visual reference for the character of Hector is actor Julio Torres.

Chapter One: The Legend  
Secretly, he thought of himself as a wanderer- like Beowulf, or Gilgamesh. But he knew people would laugh at if they ever heard that. In reality, he was just a small-town boy with a pen in his hand and some clichéd poetry in his brain. Even his parents knew it. He told his mother and father that to be a great poet, or a bard, he would have to visit many different places to find new people, ideas and experiences. They just shook their heads and told him that it was his life, and he could do as he pleased. Even the people in his village, back in Glandelinia, hadn’t seemed sorry to see him go. So, armed with little more than his concertina, he set off: writing whenever he had a minute to spare and going from town to town, playing in any tavern that would have him. He made enough to get by, and he had the papers to travel freely through the borders of different kingdoms. If there was a festival in town, her earned a nice amount of money- concertinas were hard to come by, and he tried to play songs that people could dance to. They always loved to dance. He’d slowly been building up a catalog of original songs, mostly love ballads, and people had seemed to enjoy them. Love had inspired most of his work, but he’d learned that writing a song didn’t mean you were living the words. 

When he’d met his first love, he was sure she’d be his last- but things hadn’t worked out. After her, he’d left home. During his travels thus far, there had been a few tentative encounters with other women, but they hadn’t come to much. His interest was not fully returned, or he’d felt the need to move on. He did, occasionally, feel some attraction to other men. But he’d been raised with the same values as his parents, and most people in his kingdom: that such relationships were not something ‘respectable’ people engaged in. Dennis did his best to ignore the feelings, but they were starting to stand out and make things more difficult, like a broken finger that didn’t heal properly.  
He wanted his writing and long years of reading and playing music to just unlock things for him, to make him the person he wanted to be. But suppose he wasn’t meant to be an artist? Suppose he could only be his best self by meeting the right person- would they ever show up? Will things ever change for the better?  
These were the thoughts that filled his head on the day that everything did change. 

It was a summer day, and he had just arrived in the kingdom of Borovnia, in a medium sized village called Madison. He was close to the capital city of Abbieannia, so the biggest story making the rounds was that Prince Thomas, heir to the throne, was missing. In fact, he’d been missing for two weeks, and people were starting to say the prince had been killed by a warlord, or demons, or any number of horrible things. The afternoon he arrived, Dennis set himself up in the town square and played a few short songs. He only received a few pennies. Mostly, he listened to people making up more and more fantastic stories about the prince’s disappearance, filing them away to use later. He also studied the royal seal, which was on the Borovnian flag- someone had mentioned that if Prince Thomas were found, he would be wearing a gold ring embossed with that seal. Some people thought that the prince had died and his ring had been stolen, preventing the family from identifying the corpse. Dennis was going to listen to the passers-by for a while longer, then go to the nearby church and ask if he could sleep there that night. But as he was about to climb the church steps, someone stopped him.

“Could you spare anything, young man?” The person who spoke was an elderly woman, hobbling down the stairs on a cane. The frizzy head and long face that poked out from under her kerchief made her look like a lamb. Dennis smiled at how she addressed him- his hair was already starting to turn a little gray, down at the roots. 

“It’s not much.” He felt himself loosen the pouch at his waist and give her his last handful of pennies. He’d always been a soft touch- he put it down to the stories he’d heard in church as a young boy. If he didn’t help her, he felt, he had no business praying at night.

“Oh, bless you,” she said as she grabbed the coins. She leaned a bit, resting on the cane. “I know you can’t be getting much with that,” she said, indicating his instrument, which was hanging slightly out of his bag. “You have no other trade, then?” 

“No, ma’am,” he said softly. “I’m a musician- and a poet. But I only get paid for playing.” 

“If you could find the prince, the king would give you a nice reward,” she said. She stopped to adjust the scarf around her head. “You’re kind, so I hope it is you that finds him.” 

“I wouldn’t know where to look,” Dennis admitted. “There must be a lot of people searching.” 

“Well I think he may be in the woods,” Bernadette said. She pointed off into the distance. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t go there. There’s a highwayman who watches the road right near the southeast entrance to the woods. Sometimes he follows people inside, right into the trees! And anyone he finds, even if they’ve got nothing- he gives them a beating.” 

“I know it’s not safe to travel alone at night,” he replied. “I usually find a church and ask if I can sleep there, so that’s why I’m here.”  
“Smart of you. What’s your name?”  
“Dennis, ma’am. Yours?” 

“Bernadette. Now, you seem like an intelligent fellow, so you tell me what you think. I think the highwayman and the prince are the same person,” she said, giving him a knowing wink. 

“Wouldn’t people see his ring, with the royal seal?” Dennis said, humoring her a little. Her idea had the makings of a story, though… 

“He’s cleverer than that!” she cried. “He’d keep that somewhere safe. And you know, I’m sure the Prince spread that story about the ghost to throw everyone off. But it didn’t work!” 

“What ghost?” Now things were getting interesting. Dennis got his parchment out and tried to write all this down, but he couldn’t keep up with her.  
“Oh I forgot….you’re new here. Just got here today?” Denis nodded. “Well, the story about a ghost who haunts the river, right where it’s deepest- in the woods. A lot of our young men want to see if they can get a glimpse of it.”

“Every village has ghost stories. What makes this one special?”

She smiled and showed a wide row of brownish teeth, which made her look even more like a sheep. “People went looking for the prince, and they started hearing singing at night – sometimes a man’s voice, sometimes a woman’s. This figure in the woods kept darting away from them. They said it must be a ghost, a ghost that looked like a beautiful girl, with long golden hair.” She noticed the change in his expression and laughed. “Yes, now you’re interested! Because you want a look at her. Here’s how I think it all fits together- even if it’s she’s no ghost, nobody caught that lady. The highwayman keeps chasing them off. I think he wants her for himself. The prince was supposed to get married, before he left! So the ghost must really be his mistress.” 

“Now that’s a story,” he said. “Someone should write a song about it. A poem at the very least.” 

“Well, the highwayman’ll beat any songs right out of you, if he finds you,” the old woman replied. “They say he’s got a network of spies working for him, so watch out.  
“I know a good story when I hear it,” Dennis said. “I’m going to find out if you’re right.”  
“Hmmm. You don't even have a weapon?" Bernadette asked. She looked sorry for him, though she clearly had no home to go to.  
Dennis indicated the little dagger at his belt. "Just this."

"Well, lucky for you, the highwayman hasn't killed anyone," she said. "Yet. Just follow the river, and do let me know if I'm right about the ghost!"

She carefully started up the stairs, her cane thumping along.  
'Where are you going?" Dennis said. "I don't want anything to happen to you, either..." 

"I'm going to take your spot at the church," Bernadette said pleasantly. "You won't be needing it.”

"Goodbye?" Dennis had a feeling he'd just been conned. It wasn't going to be an easy night, that was for sure. He'd given Bernadette his last coins, so he'd have to go to a tavern tomorrow and ask if they'd let him play for a while. Well, he thought, at least I have enough food, and I don't have to worry about being robbed. And at least I have a goal. Maybe by tomorrow, I'll even have a new song written about tonight's adventure.  
With that, he took his bag and decided to set up camp in the woods. He followed the river easily enough until the town was behind him, but wasn't sure exactly where the ghost had been spotted. Night was falling and Dennis was starting to wish he had a compass, or a map, or better yet, a guide who knew the area. This was one of many times in the past six months that he'd felt a twinge of regret at leaving home, and at his terrible planning. Being a 'wandering poet' or 'bard' had sounded romantic, until reality set in: being hungry; being chased away from the church steps with a broom; sleeping in someone’s open barn and waking up… to a chamber pot being emptied onto his head. The thing to do, he reasoned, would be to make a fire, and camp out before he got so deep in the woods that he couldn't find his way back. Soon he reached was a tree with branches that spread out like a canopy, and it seemed like it might do a good job keeping him dry if rain came. So he built a little fire, although summer still had a few weeks left to go. After two hours of nothing, and of scribbling notes- for what he'd write about, if and when the ghostly woman did show up- night had fallen and so had Dennis, fast asleep.


	2. Thief of the Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dennis stops whining and meets the rest of the band

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more notes: 
> 
> I wrote this work for my friend 'Carmen' (see my Joker fic). Some of the elements were inspired by things I thought she might enjoy. Since then I have received much encouragement from some of my other friends (including the one person I know is reading this!) I started writing this a year ago, long before I wrote "Your Soul in My Hands." I think the writing in that one is better and the plot is a LOT tighter, but during lockdown, it was important for me to finish this story and see it through to the end.
> 
> I know the dialogue is out there, but let's face it, you can't make a buncha guys from a 70's band sprout pseudo medieval prose.

Dennis was sleeping with his arms around his pack, laying on his cloak. Despite his curiosity, he was sound asleep- leaving him to be awakened by none other than the highwayman.  
“Give me your pack,” the man said, holding a large knife to Dennis’s throat. He was very tall and thin, and wore a long, dark cloak with a hood and a scarf over his face. He seemed to growl with every word he spoke. “Don’t bother looking for this,” he added, holding up the little dagger in his other hand  
“You can have it, but I don’t have any money,” Dennis said, his voice shaking. The man’s hands were huge, and looked like they’d easily jam the knife right through his victims. He pushed the pack over to the highwayman. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Dennis could make out the highwayman’s horse, tied to a nearby tree.  
“What are you doing out here? People know not to cross me.” the man said. Dennis tried to get his bearings and look around a bit more, but the highwayman was having none of it. “Answer me!”  
“I’m trying to find the lady who haunts the woods,” Dennis said, not seeing a reason to lie if he was going to be killed anyway. “The lady with the long gold hair. I want to write her story down.”  
“You stay away from the woods,” the man hissed, holding the knife even closer. “There’s nothing for you here. Get out.”  
“Why?” asked Dennis. This might be his one chance to be a hero, like the people he had read about. Maybe knowing that it could be his last chance is what made him braver, made him ask: “Who is she?”  
“Give me the dagger and I’ll look through his bag,” a voice said. It was another man with a scarf over his face, evidently one of the highwayman’s spies. The highwayman passed over the dagger and then the bag. The whole time, he kept one hand, with the knife, tight on Dennis’s throat. His companion took the bag and started rummaging through it. “He’s got…a- oh, what’s the word for it?” The second man held up Dennis’s instrument by one handle, and the concertina stretched and let out a little bleat.  
“It’s a concertina- please, that’s how I earn my living,” Dennis said.  
“We can’t take that,” the second robber said. “We’re not that terrible.” He had a sympathetic voice, despite the situation. “Let’s see….some food, a graphite stick, a few sheets of parchment…”  
Well, if the highwayman hasn’t killed anyone yet, he may not start now, Dennis thought to himself. They’re certainly taking their time. If he could just grab his concertina, maybe some papers, and run….  
“Is there any money?” the highwayman said, his voice sounding more strained.  
“No. I told you he looked poor.”  
“I’m middle-class!” Dennis said in outrage. “My father was a merchant!”  
“Well, couldn’t we sell the parchment?” the highwayman said, ignoring Dennis’s bruised ego.  
“It’s kind of wrinkled,” said the second robber. He rifled through the rest of their ‘find’ without much enthusiasm. “And um, most of it’s got writing on it. Can I have his graphite stick?”  
“Please don’t destroy my work!” Dennis cried.  
“YOUR work? Get the fuck out,” the highwayman said in disgust. He let Dennis go, shoving him away. He stood up and sheathed his knife, and turned to leave. “Didn’t have a fucking coin on him,” the highwayman muttered. Dennis couldn’t help laughing, and almost collapsed right there on the ground. The highwayman turned around and looked downright incensed.  
“I mean, why the hell are you traveling with nothing in your pockets? You must be earning even less than me!” the highwayman barked.  
“You didn’t have to rob me. You could get a job,” Dennis said spitefully.  
“Well, petty crime is his job,” the second robber said.  
“It wouldn’t be petty crime if you two could get your act together!” the Highwayman said. “Your….buddy, there is late, as usual.”  
‘Hi, fellas,” said a third robber, a shaggy-haired man who hadn’t even bothered to cover his face. He had a large walking stick, but didn’t seem to be too eager to hit anyone with it. “Did this guy have any money, James?”  
“NO NAMES!” the Highwayman cried. He wrestled the man’s stick away and gave him a swat on the rear. “See, this is why we told you to stay home.”  
Dennis was laughing so hard there were tears running down his face.  
“This guy does look kinda familiar, but I guess he didn’t have anything,” the third man observed. He rubbed where James had just hit him, but didn’t seem to be in any pain. “If he did, he wouldn’t be this happy.”  
“Right as usual,” the second man replied. He took his scarf off and Dennis finally got a good look at him. He was fair, with short dark hair and a beard, and greatly resembled the third man, though he was thinner. Were they all brothers?  
“James, you really have your work cut out for you,” Dennis grinned.  
‘That’s not my real name,” James said petulantly.  
“Yes it is,” his partners chorused, teasing him.  
James glowered at them and ripped off his scarf and cape. “Oh well, why don’t you just tell him everything?” James said sarcastically. “Where we live, where we hide the loot-WHEN WE GET IT!” He threw his cape on the ground and stomped off to go untie his horse. Dennis thought if James hadn’t been rolling his eyes and pouting, he would’ve been a handsome fellow. He was obviously not related to the other two: his skin was more tanned and he had very different features. Everything about James was long and lanky, right down to his sandy hair and its thick fringe. He also had a mustache and beard that looked a little overgrown. All these things would’ve made it easy to identify him. Covering their faces was just about the only thing this ‘gang’ had done correctly….for all of one minute.  
“So…you’re James, and this is your network of spies?” said Dennis.  
James turned his head back to glare at him. “Look, we don’t want your stupid instrument, so take it and get lost.”  
“Well, where are the rest of them?” Dennis asked. He looked in the trees, on the path, waiting for someone to sneak up on them. “Your spies?”  
“We’re it,” the second man said. He really did have a calm, pleasant sounding voice, all things considered, Dennis thought. “I’m Chuck and this is John, if you were wondering.”  
“James does most of the robbing, and I’m still on my trial period as one of the gang,” John added.  
“Yeah, you’re not doing so hot,” James said dourly.  
John nudged Chuck and started whispering in his ear.  
Dennis wondered what they were talking about. Probably how ‘poor’ I am, he thought. It’s not my fault I have nowhere to take a bath and I’ve been wearing the same clothes for ages. “Two people is hardly a network,” Dennis said.  
‘Says the one who’s stupid enough to have a no-brainer job and not earn any cash,” James snapped, hopping on the back of his horse. “Guys, let’s go. I’m not spending all night here.”  
“Wait a second,” Chuck said. He gave Dennis back his things. “Here you go. What’s your name?”  
Dennis introduced himself and there were handshakes all around- except from James, who made sure everyone knew he was irritated. Chuck and John confirmed that yes, they were twins.  
“You know, it’s not that safe out here,” Chuck said.  
“Do you have anywhere to stay? We have room in the barn,” John added.  
“What, right near the guy who pulled a knife on me?” Dennis wasn’t sure he’d heard any of this correctly.  
“He’s never actually hurt anyone,” John laughed. “He’s all talk. Besides, we really want to hear your songs. Maybe you can teach them to us? We play.”  
“I haven’t heard a new song in ages,” Chuck said. “You’d better let us hear them, and we’ll tell you if they’re any good.”  
“They probably suck, thanks to your annoying voice,” James said in a bad attempt at whispering. He nudged his horse and started riding on ahead.  
“Just ignore him,” Chuck said. “Follow us.”  
Dennis didn’t exactly say no, but he wasn’t ready to accept this rather suspicious offer. He ran up to keep pace with Chuck and John, making sure nothing fell out of his bag. “No, seriously, why would you let me camp out at your place? You don’t know me.”  
“Well, we feel bad about robbing you, especially when you obviously have nothing,” said John.  
'You do seem like a nice enough guy," Chuck said. "Definitely not an axe-murderer. But in all honesty: We really want to win this music contest they're having over at that big tavern in town, the Golden Stag. James won't perform with us, and we can't get much going with just a bass viol and a drum. It’ll just be for a little while.”  
“It happens every Friday night, so we don’t have much time,” John said. “There's a cash prize, and we can split the money- half for you, half for us.” Now Dennis understood. Sure, they wanted something from him, but this would benefit everyone.  
“We’d only have two days…and you don’t even know if I’m any good,” Dennis said.  
“You’re good enough,” John said. “I recognized you when I got closer. I heard you playing in town yesterday.”  
“And we need that money,” Chuck said. “This hasn’t been a working farm since our mom was alive.” They were coming upon a squat little house with a very large garden, next to a stream. Being in the woods, it didn’t look like it had ever been much of a farm at all, but there was a barn standing behind the house.  
"So," Dennis said, “How much money do we stand to earn?”  
"Well, it varies," John said. “They pass the hat after every act, winning act gets to pass the hat again at the end of the night and keep it all. But the house starts with twenty silver pieces. Now, I know that doesn't sound like a ton of money, but it would help us keep our land. I heard you through a crowd of people. You can really sing, and we can’t, so you better give us the best you’ve got.”  
"I don't want this guy staying with us," James said, shouting back from his horse. “Do the contest with him if you want, but he’s not coming back-“  
"Majority rules. He's not the first stray we picked up," Chuck said.  
"This guy isn't like the cat, Chuck," James said. "The cat doesn't get in the way." He paused for a moment, reflecting. "Or Jaelle; it was ok having her crash in the front room for a couple weeks before she left town with her folks.”  
"She was the most beautiful tattoo artist I ever saw. You guys think I should still get a Viking ship on my back?” John said wistfully.  
"This guy," Dennis said raising his voice a bit, "Is standing right here, and you could include him in your conversation. I only need to get a good night's sleep, and I know I can help you win that money.”  
“He’s staying,” Chuck said.  
James roughly dismounted his horse and slunk off into the barn, leading the animal by the reins. “Fine. But don’t bother my horse, he doesn’t like strangers,” he called. Then James abruptly added: “And don’t go in the woods!”  
“He’s not what I expected,” Dennis muttered, as James went into the barn.  
“Well, he’s not exactly Robin Hood,” Chuck said.  
“He’s got a temper.”  
John shook his head. He expression said other people had brought this up, and he whispered: "James was a stray once, like our cat. Sometimes he thinks he'll be replaced."  
Dennis was wondering what all that meant. Perhaps he could ask John later. "Oh. Well…people say the highwayman gives anyone a beating, even if they've got no money."  
"Oh, you mean that one guy that tripped and broke his arm," Chuck said, opening the door for Dennis. "Usually, people are so scared they run or throw their purse as soon as James gets out his knife. Or they saw me pretend to get my ass kicked.”  
James, exiting the barn, heard them talking about him. He followed them as he added: “He’s right. I’ve done fake fights a few times. I’d pretend to hit Chuck, someone would run over to help him and then I’d pull a knife to make ‘em hand their stuff over.”  
“That’s terrible!” Dennis said.  
“If they throw their money at me, I might as well take it. You do the same thing when you’re playing- expecting people to toss money at you.”  
Dennis couldn't believe how indifferent James was. Didn't he care about anyone but himself? “I earn my living honestly!” he said, standing straighter.  
“Doesn’t make you any more talented,” James said. “If you want people to stare at you, you’re probably just desperate to get laid.”  
Everything that had happened that night seemed to boil over, and Dennis reached out and slapped James.  
Chuck barely had time to say, “All right, that’s enough,” before James tried to twist Dennis’s long arm behind his back and Dennis started screaming: “You wanted me to hit you!”  
Chuck looked singularly unamused. “Are you two done fighting like children?”  
They roughly let go of each other.  
“Hypocrite. Said you weren’t trying to hurt anyone,” Dennis snapped.  
“You started it,” James muttered.  
“Okay, so he’s a thief. But who told you James goes around threatening people?” John asked. "People who are annoyed they lost their money, or people who are embarrassed they were afraid of this guy?" He jerked a thumb at James.  
"Well..." Dennis considered this. "Just some old lady I ran into."  
Chuck and John looked dubious. "One old lady isn't 'people,' kind of like how John and I are not a 'network,'" Chuck said.


	3. Rob 'Em Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys bond.

Chuck and John’s little ‘farmhouse’ was downright cozy, not like a robber’s hideout at all. There was even a little sampler over the hearth that said ‘A Mother’s Love Makes A Home Sweet Home.’ “Where’s all your ill-gotten gains?” Dennis said. He was confused, but glad James hadn’t been able to bite his fingers off during their fight.  
“Our what?” Chuck said, frowning as he lit some candles.   
"It would be great to have some ill-gotten gains," John said. "But James hasn't picked up any gains at all, really. We don't get a lot of rich people on the road." There were only a few things of value in the house: a shelf was filled with awkwardly stacked, worn books; next to a chessboard with a few pieces missing, there was a small, broken globe on a table, and it looked like someone had kicked a hole right through Asia. There was also a large pile of old clothes in the corner, on which a little ginger-colored cat was sleeping. All this represented one common eating and sitting area, centered around the hearth. There were two doors off to the side, which were probably bedrooms. "Sit anywhere," John said, "except on my tabor. I don't want it to end up like the globe." He pointed to a crude drum- it looked like an instrument he might’ve made himself.   
Chuck said: “Dennis, would you like a cup of tea? It’ll help you sleep.” He turned to his brother. “It's your turn to feed Muffin, John."   
John picked up the cat and started rubbing her stomach. "I named her that 'cause it's the first thing I fed her," he explained. “I’ll never forget when I looked into those cute little eyes…”   
As John went on, Dennis couldn’t believe where he’d ended up. This was all so…domestic, considering the robbery attempt. “Wait a minute. If you’re not really robbing all that much, where’d you get this stuff?”   
Chuck shrugged as he put the kettle on the fire. “You can see for yourself we don’t have very much. We grow whatever we can –like the tea- and we take home whatever we can scrounge up; things people don’t want anymore.”  
“Like my jacket,” John said, displaying some rough-looking patches that had been hidden by his cloak.   
“So what’s all this about someone wanting to take this land, isn’t it the king’s?” Dennis asked.   
“Technically,” James said, sounding like he was grateful for an opportunity to correct Dennis, “part of the woods is his, and part of it belongs to the Sheriff’s family.”   
“Our father worked for that family, as a gamekeeper,” John said softly. “So he got some space to build a home, but now that he’s not around, the Sheriff wants the land back. And let me tell you, he won’t let us forget it. That guy doesn’t know when to quit!” Chuck mumbled something as he got three cups together for the tea.   
“You’re not working for them?”  
“We send them whatever we can grow and try to keep enough to live on. Our mom used to raise pigs, but that was a long time ago. We usually scrape together about what the parcel is worth, but the Sheriff wants it back because there’s not much land to work, and we don’t have any more pigs. ” Chuck said. He set the cup down in front of Dennis. “You know, we’re trying to help you out too. You could give it a rest with the nosy questions.” Hi voice sounded a little less pleasant than it had before.   
“Don’t feel you have to answer,” Dennis said quickly. He drank his tea but didn’t finish it. Dennis knew he was going to have to ask John or Chuck about the woods, since he'd never get a straight answer out of James. Chuck helped him into the barn, and together they made a pile of hay for Dennis to sleep on. Dennis thanked him, but as Chuck turned to go, he said:   
"There can’t be anything that bad in the woods. I've already met the highwayman."   
Chuck looked worried about something, and shook his head. "So that’s what’s bugging you. It's something you'd have to take up with James."   
"Is he hiding something in there?" Dennis said. "Did he kill someone?"   
"James would never do that," Chuck said sharply. He went to the door and prepared to leave. "But I think you’ve asked enough questions. Tomorrow we want to hear your music.”   
“Thanks for letting me stay,” Dennis called after him.   
Chuck opened the door and turned back to Dennis. "You’re welcome. See you in the morning; get some sleep." He left without waiting for a reply, but Dennis didn’t mind. His thoughts were taking over: If he could expose the secret in the woods, then he could write a song that would not only win him that contest, but spread throughout the kingdom and bring him the acclaim he’d always wanted. All his heartbreak, all the rejection from his family, would be worth it!  
Once the house got quiet, Dennis poked his head out of the barn. He looked to the house and saw all the candles were out, so he put on his cloak and left. Again, without a much of plan- still as headstrong as the day he left home. Branches scratched his face, and he thought he heard a wolf howling. But he continued following the river past where he had met James, venturing deeper and deeper into the woods.


	4. Siren Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never, EVER assume, Dennis.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the woods around the river had grown denser and darker. Dennis heard something in the distance: music, very faint but with a lovely, lilting melody. And there up ahead, where the water was deeper- was that someone in the water? He almost ran forward, then remembered that he couldn’t see very well and was likely to break a branch and frighten the ‘ghost’ off. He darted off to the side and began slowly making his way through a thicker patch of trees. Thanks to the water, he told himself, he should be able to find the ‘ghost’ easily and be the first to write about it.   
And then he saw her. She faced away from him, a slender figure in the water. The river was up to her narrow waist, and she was singing softly to herself. Her flaxen hair was her only covering. Was she not a ghost, but a siren or mermaid?   
He could just make out the words and her sweet, husky voice: “...all roads lead to tranquility base, where the frown on my face disappears...”  
She was human, he realized. But he was still overcome by the haunting song, the vision in the water before him. If only he could hear or see her more clearly, especially her face. He felt like King Arthur beholding the Lady of the Lake, or Princess Guinevere. He hardly realized he was speaking aloud as he cried: “You have the voice of an angel…” The figure froze, and Dennis hurriedly said: “I’m sorry, miss, I won’t look at you! I just heard you singing-”  
The figure turned around, revealing a flat, muscular chest. “Who the hell are you?” a male voice shouted.  
Oh, shit, it can’t be, Dennis thought. His eyes frantically glanced down, at the figure and then at his own feet. Yes, this appeared to be a man he’d been lusting after. His attraction hadn’t waned, but he HAD just addressed this person as if they were female. Shit. Embarrassment hit him like a bucket of ice water to the groin. “Oh…I’m so sorry! Sir?”  
“What are you trying to do, you lunatic? Rob me?” The figure was running toward him now….and Dennis saw the little pile of clothing sitting on the rocks nearby. He was so caught up in his vision that he’d overlooked it, and the sword on top. So: he had fallen deeply in lust with someone, offended them, and now they were going to stab him to death. This wasn’t going to be a very heroic tale, if he lived long enough to write it down. Dennis realized the man was right in front of him, and had probably mistaken him for the highwayman. He put his hand over his eyes, so the stranger didn’t also mistake him for a pervert. He had to find the right words to get out of this.   
‘Uh, I wasn’t trying to steal from you. Please don’t stab me.” Oh that’s great, Dennis thought. Right up there with ‘Beowulf,’ O poet of the ages.   
“So you thought I was a woman,” the man said. “Are you robbing me, spying on me, or what?”   
“I only saw your hair…” He knew that was a terrible response, and that adding ‘I admire your extensive vocal range’ would probably make things worse. The lingering attraction was making it a lot harder for him to talk his way out of this abyss. At least he didn’t have to look the man in the eye.   
“If you’re not here to rob me, what the hell do you want?”   
“I….well, I know it sounds ridiculous.” He was out of lies. Hopefully, this man would just let him expose what an idiot he was, and send him on his way. “People said they saw a ghost in the woods, with long blonde hair, and…”  
“And you were expecting a woman,” the man sighed. He seemed to be putting on his clothes, by the sound of it. “So you decided to gawk at someone trying to take a bath. I swear, your village is full of idiots.”   
‘I’m not from around here,” Dennis mumbled.   
"You know, I keep moving further into the woods so people won’t follow me. I sing because….damn it, nobody wants to be off by themselves all the time. But you showing up to mock me was not what I had in mind,” the man said.   
"I wasn’t mocking you,” Dennis said. “I liked the melody, and I couldn’t make out your voice-” Suddenly, he found his hand was being yanked away from his eyes.  
‘Jesus. You can look now, I’m dressed,” the young man said. He seemed to have calmed down. Dennis opened his eyes and blinked. He was not ready to stare directly into the wide blue eyes and gentle face that awaited him. Even in his simple tan hose and flowing white shirt, the young man carried himself with confidence and dignity. How could anyone mock him, Dennis wondered. He’s so elegant.   
“I…feel awful about this,” Dennis said. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were ready to kill me.”   
“Kill you? God, no.” Tentatively, the young man reached out and they shook hands. “I thought you were giving me a hard time; I got upset. Let’s just forget this, okay? And don’t tell anyone you saw me.”   
Dennis nodded. At least he was going home with his life.   
“Is that your bag over there, by my sword?” the young man said, pointing to where Dennis had been watching him. Oh no, the poet thought. I must have dropped it when he found me.   
“Sorry, I’ll get it,” Dennis replied. He turned around and reached down to get it, but he law what was sitting next to the sword: a gold signet ring on a chain. He could just make out that it was stamped with the royal seal. “You’re Prince Thomas!” Dennis cried. “Everyone thinks you’re dead!”   
‘Keep your voice down,” Prince Thomas snapped. He grabbed the ring and put the chain around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. “I told you, nobody can know I’ve been camping out here.”   
“I won’t tell, but what are you hiding from? Are you abdicating the throne?”   
Thomas frowned and looked uncertainly at him. He scrambled to pick up his sword and began fastening his belt. “Who are you, a spy?”   
“Wow, you really think so?” Dennis caught himself and tried to sound less like a flattered teenager: “No, I’m not. I am a writer.”   
“Yeah?” Prince Thomas seemed rather bemused. He started pulling his boots on. “Are you famous?”   
“I’m no one,” Dennis said shyly. He looked around, making sure they were alone. He was certain no one had followed him, but still, Dennis thought, they were both oddly vulnerable right now. “My name is Dennis. Your highness…”   
The prince smiled and shook his head: “Tommy.”   
“Tommy…I have to tell you, in every story I’ve read, things like this don’t work out. Either the prince gets killed or he has to come back and slay a monster to save the kingdom, or something.”   
“Thanks for looking out for me,” said Tommy. “But I’d rather take my chances on my own than with my parents.”   
Dennis realized that this was no less of a good story to tell, one worthy of a song. In spite of the odd situation, he was glad he had met Tommy. “So you are abdicating?” he asked softly.   
“Don’t ask. It’s complicated, and I should go. I have a friend who lives around here, so I might as well ask if he’d let me stay with him. He’s in hiding too, though. We don’t want anyone to find us together.”   
“You could come stay with me,” Dennis said. The minute he said it, he realized it was foolish. They barely knew each other. He was full of bad ideas tonight.   
“You’re not staying at the inn, are you?” Thomas said, studying him curiously. “People would recognize me there.” There was something in his expression Dennis couldn’t quite pin down. Was he humoring him? “I thought you said…you weren’t from around here.”   
“I found a place to stay. Did you ever run into the highwayman that rides through here?”   
“You mean James?” Thomas asked.   
Dennis’s eyes widened, and he picked up his bag. “You know him?”   
“He’s the friend I mentioned,” Thomas said. His voice told Dennis that James was more than a friend, and the bard flinched a little. “You know what I mean?” Tommy asked. Dennis nodded, and the young prince looked him up and down with even more curiosity. “Yeah, I thought you would. I guess we could head back together. How’d you and James meet?”   
“It was an accident…I don’t actually know him very well,” Dennis mumbled. “John and Chuck invited me, so I’m uh, staying in the barn. With the horse.”   
“You get all the crazies following you, huh?” Tommy smiled. “I wonder what that says about you.” He ran ahead and pushed some branches aside. Hidden behind those branches and tied to a tree was a majestic black horse, wearing a saddle, bridle and saddlebag. “Let’s go,” Tommy said, turning back to Dennis as he patted the horse. “You can ride in back.”   
“Are you sure? It’s not far, I can walk.”  
“She doesn’t mind.” Tommy bent his head and whispered in his horse’s ear. “Right, Sahir? Do ya, girl?” Tommy stroked the horse's nose and calmed it. He then carefully took off the red blanket the animal had been wearing, and tucked it under the saddle. Dennis admitted he wasn't comfortable around horses, so Tommy helped him on, then mounted the horse and got in front. They set off for the little farmhouse. They didn't move too quickly, but Dennis still felt like he was going to slip off the saddle. "You don't ah, mind if I hold onto you?"   
Tommy shook his head, so Dennis put his hands around his waist. It was a pleasantly snug embrace.   
"If you’re going with me to see James, could you at least explain why you’re running away?" Dennis said.   
"Let me ask you something," Tommy said. "Are you happy with your life- like, are you totally satisfied?"   
"Hell, no," Dennis said mournfully.   
"Of course not. That’s why you and I are sitting in the woods in the middle of the night, like stupid assholes. No offense."   
"Uh, none taken." Those were strong words, coming from someone he'd briefly thought was a mermaid.   
Tommy continued on: "You and me, we’re like these guys in books, right? You want to see the world, do exciting things. You don't want to be a copy of your parents.”   
"How'd you know?" Dennis said, wishing Tommy had seen his eyes light up. "You feel exactly the same way I do!"   
"Well, I think it's a pretty old cliche," Tommy sighed. "And that we've probably read a lot of the same books."   
Dennis hurriedly tried to hide the blush on his pale face. "But...you don't want to be king?"   
Tommy briefly looked back at Dennis. The prince bore the pained expression of a young man faced with one of two things: the mantle of responsibility, or severe diarrhea. "Not really."   
"That's not exciting enough for you?"   
“That’s not it. I have no idea how to tell other people how to live their lives," Tommy said. “Or give orders like- 'hey, go to war, go kill a bunch of people and take over this country.' I thought I would get over it and just you know, be serious by the time I turned 20. But that was just a few weeks ago.”   
"You could still learn. You could do a lot of good," Dennis offered.   
"Would you become king, if you had to marry someone you didn't love?"   
"No," Dennis said, without hesitation. "You mean that's what your parents wanted from you?" Tommy nodded. "You had a good reason to leave, then."   
They rode in silence for a moment. Dennis could see they were getting close to the house, and soon they wouldn't get a chance to speak alone. "Tommy? What do you think you'd do, if you could do whatever you wanted? Like, if you had to choose just one thing. I'd write poetry."   
"I can tell you," Tommy said warmly, "'cause I know you won't give me a hard time like my dad does. I'd be a musician."   
"Well..." Dennis knew he had to sound supportive, but not as interested as he really was, especially if James was about to show up. "You sure can sing."   
Tommy laughed softly. "You said that earlier. I thought you were kidding." They had arrived at the little house, so Tommy gently halted Sahir and dismounted. Then he held out a hand to Dennis and helped him off the horse’s back.  
"Oh, that..." Dennis said, as he struggled to get down. Jesus, he'd almost forgotten the most embarrassing moment of his life, which had been less than an hour ago. "I was acting stupid, but you're really good." He finally got to the ground and found his feet after wobbling off the horse. He realized he'd been holding Tommy's hand and let it go.   
"Thanks," Tommy said, smiling. "I play the mandolin too. Can you put her in the barn for me? " He called out, cupping his hands to his mouth. "James, it’s me! Look who I found!"   
Dennis was left alone with Sahir, and he had no idea how to touch a horse without getting kicked in the face. He looked in the horse's eye and said: "Let me guess- everyone ends up falling in love with him, don't they?"


	5. The Truth Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More backstory, more bickering. Motives are revealed.

After Dennis was finally able to get the horse back in the barn, the group was sitting around the table in the main room of the house. Things were a little uneasy: James and Tommy were relieved to see each other, but keeping their distance in front of Dennis, the newcomer. John was quietly playing with the cat, and Chuck just seemed annoyed that everyone had woken him up.

"You shouldn't have come here," James muttered. He was looking at Tommy as if he were the only real person in the room. “We haven’t been careful enough. This is all gonna come apart.” 

"I know, but I had to see you. That’s the third time this month someone’s gotten close enough to almost see me- we have to figure something else out," Tommy said as he sorted through his saddlebag. He turned to Dennis, who was standing awkwardly by the fire while Tommy sat between Chuck and James. "Hey, you’re a guest- you should sit down. I don't bite...but he does." Tommy pointed to James, who gave the prince one of his sly smiles. Now, Dennis noticed that James's smile always looked like a smirk…and that James’s smirking was really starting to annoy him.

"So," Dennis said, not wanting to think too hard about what Tommy had just said, "Like he says, I found Tommy and he told me why he ran off. Getting married and all.”

Tommy nodded and went back to looking through his bag, so Dennis continued on:

'You said you don’t want to marry her, but you could have told your parents..." He wanted to say "that you're in love with James," but he wasn’t sure of the exact nature of the relationship. _Is that why you can't say it?_ he asked himself. _Or are you just jealous, Dennis?_

But Tommy, who had set down his bag, finished for him. "I couldn't- I'm an only child. If my family is going to stay in power, they need me to come back and start having kids right away.” He looked solemn as he reached out to James and grabbed his hand. "And of course, between the two of us, that's not an option." 

"You staying here is not an option," James said, squeezing Tommy’s hand. He put his arm around the smaller man and nestled him into his side. "If it were up to me, we’d have the new guy outta here. And if more people come looking for you…I couldn’t fleece all of them even if I wanted to.”

"I’m ‘the new guy’, right?" So you're using Tommy as an excuse to harass people and toss me out on my ass? Dennis said. He felt affronted at being referred to that way, and oddly protective of Tommy, despite the fact that the prince seemed perfectly able to take care of himself. 

"What's your excuse for being a stuck-up little prick?" James shot back. 

"Look,” Chuck cried. “You two haven’t even been together for a whole day, and I’m already sick of your stupid bickering.” John nodded, and Tommy looked profoundly disappointed in both James and Dennis.

“What are you looking at me for?” James asked Tommy. “This guy could run off and tattle on you anytime. He needs the money.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dennis said. “I want to win the money honestly, as a musician.”

“Well, I believe him,” Tommy said. “He had the opportunity to act like a creep in front of me, and didn’t take it.”

"Tommy’s right,” Chuck said. “Listen, it’s just two days. So figure something out until the contest is over. This is Mom’s house and you’re disrespecting her.”

Dennis was fully ready for James to tell him to get the hell out, but James sighed extended his hand. "Come on, shake." 

"Really?" 

"I can't have the guys mad at me," James said resignedly. "And we need you to win the money. I’m no help there.” They shook, and everyone in the room seemed to relax a little bit. The air felt easier to breathe.

“So you don’t play an instrument?” Dennis asked.

James frowned. “Just find a way to win that money so we don’t have to give back the land.” Dennis nodded, and Tommy cleared his throat, as if to announce something.

“Oh, guys, you wanted to see that picture- here it is,” Tommy said, indicating what he had taken out of his saddlebag. It was a miniature portrait in a gold frame, of a young woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes. “That’s my fiancée, Melisande.”

“I guess that’s how I thought she’d look,” James said. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Dennis said. He wasn’t sure why the others looked a bit uncomfortable.

“She’s my cousin,” Tommy said wearily. “First cousin. Who looks like my sister. My parents…really want to keep that dynasty going.”

Dennis could feel the horrified look spread across his face. “People still do that?” Tommy nodded. “No wonder you left,” Dennis replied. Then it hit him, why he had thought Melisande to be beautiful. She and Tommy did look quite a bit alike. They had the same jawline, slender face, wide eyes, and pouting mouth. _No wonder I made him upset,_ he thought worriedly.

“That’s the upper classes for you,” James said.

“Sure,” John said. “Ever since Cleopatra married her brother.”

“Makes me glad we were born on a pig farm,” Chuck said to his twin. John nodded sagely.

“Why do you say this is your mother’s house- uh, farm?” Dennis said. “Not yours?”

“If I’d have known you were going to talk this much, I would’ve left you in the woods,” Chuck snapped.

“I’ll tell him,” John said, his voice breaking a little. “Look, this is why we need the money. Our father finished the shell of the house and the roof right around the time we, uh, showed up. After that, he didn’t stick around too long. So mom had to take care of us and the pigs; dig a garden; find odds and ends to fill the house.”

“It really is hers,” Chuck said solemnly.

“Right after you were born? All alone?” Dennis couldn’t believe this. His own mother acted helpless whenever she had a headache. He certainly couldn’t see her caring for newborn twins and tending to a farm by herself.

“I mean, we were there and all, but we don’t remember much,” John said vaguely.

“I need some fucking sleep,” Chuck muttered. “Why did all this have to come out now, when the sun’s about to rise? Does anyone have anymore secrets to air out?”

“Well, since you asked, I think….I might be leaving home,” James said, oddly unsteady.

“What?” Chuck said. “You’re leaving?”

“Tommy and me have been talking for a while about going to Marwencol,” James explained to his brothers. Dennis noticed that James did not once look in his direction. “A lot of younger people are heading there- as long as you become a citizen, you can vote, own property, all kinds of stuff.”

“And him and me, nobody would look twice at us,” Tommy added, squeezing James’s arm. “We could even get married one day, maybe.”

“But that’s- what?” John said, furiously trying to do the math in his head. “It’s in the mountains. The next boat out of here only goes as far as Acheron, so you’d still have to get through that after a couple days at sea.”

“We haven’t really planned it out,” Tommy said apologetically, “but I had to leave home in a hurry, and this seems like it might be the time.”

“Why didn’t you just do this sooner and take some shit with you to pawn?” Chuck said. “Or sell your horse? It’s not like you’re hurting for cash.”

“Okay, I admit it,” Tommy said, shame rising in his voice. “I’m no good at planning, since my whole life’s been planned out for me up til now. I had some money with me and I ended up giving it away, there was a family who needed it. I’m sorry guys, James and I are gonna split his share, if we win the money.”

Chuck didn’t take this news very well: was like every annoyed remark Dennis had heard him make was now scrawled across his face. “You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“No,” Tommy admitted. ‘It’s my fault.”

“Leave it to a rich kid,” Chuck muttered. “No problems of your own, so you make more for us.”

“Hey, ease up,” James said, but he also looked disappointed in Tommy. John seemed to withdraw into himself.

Chuck fixed his incensed eyes on Dennis. “Your turn, then.”

“To do what?” Dennis said in a hollow voice.

“You tell us something about yourself,” Chuck said. “We barely know you. But you’ve been wearing us down with questions. You know about our parents, Tommy’s engagement…”

“I’m not saying shit,” James said.

‘It’s okay,” John said softly. “You live here already.” The cat purred, and John set her down on the floor. Muffin slinked under the table and sat at Chuck’s feet.

‘Yeah,” John said, looking critically at Dennis for the first time. “You do seem like you’ve got a secret. What are you hiding?”

“I left home to become a poet,” Dennis sighed. “And my parents thought I was being totally foolish. Naturally, my worst fear is that they were right about me, especially because they weren’t bad people or anything- I just wanted a more exciting life, the kind I read about in stories. My brother and sister didn’t even tell me goodbye on the day I left.” 

“That’s nothing,” James said acidly. “You left home because you were bored? You and a million other people!”

“I know.” Dennis whispered. “But I can still help you win that money.”

‘You’d better.” James turned his attention to his lover, and pointed behind his shoulder to his bedroom door. "C'mon." Tommy nodded and they both rose, leaving the room together. It seemed that the door was deliberately slammed behind them. Dennis kept his eyes on the door for a moment, not realizing his jaw was set and his posture was defensive. 

"If you stare any harder at that door, you'll burn a hole in it," Chuck said. 

Dennis snapped out of it, shaking himself awake. "I was just thinking. Sorry." 

"About how you found out James’s ….little secret?" Chuck said, indicating the door.

“Your secret too, now,” John added. Dennis looked horrified. Was he that obvious? “When you were putting the horse in the barn, Tommy told us how you watched him,” John continued. “Now you know why James didn’t want you going out in the woods.”

"I’m not getting involved,” Dennis said quickly. “It’s their business.”

“Good. Go back to the barn and get some sleep, and don’t bother me until noon,” Chuck said to him. “Or I swear, I’m gonna lose it.”

Dennis slept fitfully on his pile of hay, and tried not to think of Tommy embracing James, or their bodies entwined in bed.


	6. All I’ve Ever Known is How to Hold My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn Tommy and James's backstory.

“Start at the beginning,” James said. Part of him wanted to sit on the bed next to Tommy and comfort him, but the other part was frustrated by Tommy’s poor judgment. If anyone other than Tommy had messed up their escape plan, James would have been shouting his head off and raising his fist.  
Tommy sighed. “It happened when I left two weeks ago, but I didn’t wanna say anything. Okay, so you know I had a purse of gold with me. There was a family camping in the woods when I went to set up camp. They had three kids and barely anything to eat…so I told them to take the bag of gold, and not tell anyone they saw me. I had on my cloak that matches this white shirt- I gave that away too, so they could wrap their baby in it. I think the second kid, he was about 4, saw me in my cloak and said I was a ghost. Guess that’s how rumors get started.”  
‘At least you’re consistent,” James said, cracking a little smile. “Sounds like you on the day we met.”  
Tommy nodded and returned the look. “Yeah…”  
______________________________________________________________________________________________  
It was Prince Thomas's 18th birthday, and everyone in Borovnia was planning for a great outdoor festival to mark the occasion. James had decided to sneak over to the castle and take advantage of this, although his foster brothers warned him that no good would come of it. James was actually a good pickpocket, if there was a crowd.

But he didn't pick pockets unless there were wealthy people around - he told himself it was to maintain his cover. But most of the people he met weren’t any better off than he was, and guilt kept his hands in his own pockets.  
Still, guilt wouldn't be on the table today- not if he’d be surrounded by merchants, lords, and ladies flaunting their gold.  
When James got to the festival, he made a thorough survey of all the different stalls. Here, people were selling food, beer and wine; fresh flowers; and handicrafts like jewelry and needlework. There were also a number of little stages set up throughout the event, where local musicians, actors, and dancers were performing.  
Now he was sorry that Chuck and John were taking care of their chores at home- they would have enjoyed all this, he thought. After surveying the area, James set to work. He began by undoing bracelets and snatching earrings from the crowd, and cutting a few purses off people's belts. Then he moved on to the artists’ stalls. Soon his satchel was getting full, and he wondered if he could get away with going back to some of the jewelry stalls and swiping a few more things. Then he looked over to the pavilion tent, where the royal family was due to put in an appearance in about an hour. Many lords and ladies had been carrying elaborate gifts for the prince, and James had seen them handing the gifts off to the servants who wore the royal crest. But he hadn’t seen where the gifts were being stored. That tent, he thought, would be the perfect place. When he was certain the tent was empty and quiet, he pulled up one of the many tent pegs and snuck inside. The thief was hoping to find something small enough to put in his pocket, but valuable enough to get good money for- like a ring. Hopefully, nothing that had Prince Thomas's name engraved on it. His suspicions were right and there were many gifts in the tent, including a world globe in a four-foot tall solid bronze stand, a live parrot, and an immense, jewel-encrusted statue of a naked woman riding a giant butterfly. “Well, I’m not getting any of those outta here,” he muttered. “John might think the gal riding the butterfly is cute, though.”  
Then he noticed that a table had been set for the royal family, with gold plates and cups. _Jackpot,_ James thought. _Even if they’re gold plated, I could get some good money for these._ He noticed the cups were jeweled, so he opened his satchel, took out an old potato sack, and tossed the cups into the sack.  
"You’d get a lot more for the girl on the butterfly,” a voice said. James looked up.  
There was a young man standing there, and although he'd never seen the prince, James knew this had to be him. His fawn-colored suit of clothes was embroidered with gold and trimmed with fine velvet. Not one silky hair on his head was out of place, and he stood in a way that made perfect posture seem natural. There was even a jeweled rapier at his side.  
Prince Thomas had always been described as 'a sweet-faced young man' or 'a spoiled little fop' (usually, the second one was said by men, who didn't like the way their wives and lovers talked about the prince). James hadn’t been sure who to believe. But now that he and the prince were face to face, James understood why so many people talked about him. Even without jewels, velvet, or other marks of his position, Thomas would have had an air of nobility. The prince bowed to James in a very courtly manner, but there was a mischievous smile playing on his lips. James felt very coarse and ungainly as he said, "Uh...wow, I'm in big trouble. This is your party, isn't it?"  
Prince Thomas laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, can't you tell? I'm so fucking charming," he said sarcastically. That made both of them laugh, but they both looked nervous as the laugh faded. James also noticed the ring on Thomas's finger with the royal seal.  
“So you’re stealing from us- but you don’t have a weapon?” Thomas said. He was looking at James with what seemed to be…curiosity? Admiration? His eyes seemed to linger a bit too long on James’s legs.  
“That would just draw attention,” James said, smiling and shifting his weight awkwardly. “I need to, uh, blend in…” _Why the hell is this guy asking me questions?_ “Why don’t you use that on me- you’re armed.” He pointed to Thomas’s rapier.  
“Oh that,” Thomas sighed. “It’s a festival day, so I had to wear an ornamental one. Not even sharp. I guess I could use it for a toothpick.” James snickered, and the prince seemed pleased that he made James laugh again. Then he sighed and added: “I just want this day to be over. “ He had started pacing back and forth a little, and that carefree charm left him. He instantly seemed five years younger. "I know a lot of work went into this party- I just hate how everyone’s been bowing and kissing my ass and then at my own party, the minute I turn around, they say things like 'wow, I wonder if he's finally old enough to shave,' or 'if he looks like that, he must be even stupider than I thought.' I'm sorry, I'm babbling. I have to go address the crowd soon.”  
"That's ok," said James. He realized he knew even less about the prince than he realized. _At first I thought he had it all together, but whoa- does he mean he feels out of place at his own birthday party?_ He wanted to see where this meeting went, out of interest if nothing else. Thomas had taken off his sword and placed it on the table, clearly not wanting to bother with it anymore. Is he hiding? Does he…want to talk to me? “Are you gonna have me arrested, or what?”  
“You really need all this stuff?” he said, pointing to James’s potato sack, and satchel.   
James looked at the bags, which were admittedly getting heavy and would be hard to sneak out. “Maybe not all of it.”  
"Well, let's make a deal," Prince Thomas said. "If you took anything here from anyone making or selling things, put it back. They're just doing their job- take this instead." There was a large, ornate chain around his neck, and he unfastened it and gave it to James. The chain was gold, and the links were engraved with curling patterns. There was also a pendant in the middle, engraved with the figure of a falcon. A large ruby sat in the middle of the falcon’s body and seed pearls stood in for the falcon's eyes.  
"I can't take this," James said, almost startled.  
'Sure you can," Thomas said. "You're a pro, right? Besides, I have at least three more."  
"No one is going to believe you gave it to me."  
"Just take it," he said, pressing it into James's hand.  
James held the chain in his fist, admiring it. He had never owned something so valuable and probably never would again. "Wow. Thank you."  
"Before you go, can I ask you something?" Thomas said.  
"You're the future king," said James, as if Thomas had asked him for permission to use the privy. "You can do whatever the hell you want."  
"Don't hold it against me, I was born into it," Thomas said with a sigh, pacing again. "My aunts and uncles get away with murder and our church will forgive anyone if they have enough money.” _He is charming, but then he swings around and acts like he’s a fox caught in a trap,_ thought James. Why waste time with me? _He’s not…interested, is he?_  
"Hey, what’s wrong?” James said. "You just nervous?"  
"I hate public speaking," Thomas said. “No matter what I say, I never wind up sounding like myself- unless I’m singing. You don’t mind if I just hide out here til I have to go on?” James nodded, and encouraged, Thomas asked: "So, like I was saying, what's your name? What's it like to be a thief?"  
James tied the two bags together and put the large bundle on the table with a loud THUNK. Then he took a moment to set the gold chain aside next to it, and casually sat down on the table, crossing his long legs. "I'm James. But look, if someone finds me here, they're not gonna like me talking to you."  
"I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted," Thomas said, grinning and showing a mouth full of blindingly white teeth.  
"Touché."  
"So tell me what you do," Thomas asked excitedly, "Do you give to the poor, like Robin Hood? Or do you go around…burning villages?"  
"I never intentionally burned anything down. And my brothers and I are pretty poor to begin with, so we just keep whatever we find. Let me tell you, it's not like it is in stories." James rose from the table, crossed his arms in front of him and looked down at Thomas. “A little thing like you would be in over your head if you were actually cold or hungry. So if I were you, I’d forget all about-OW, FUCK!” In the blink of an eye, Thomas had stepped forward and kneed James in the crotch.  
“Little, huh?” Thomas whispered.  
"Okay, okay, that was a low blow and I'm sorry- but Jesus, so was yours!" James cried, sinking to his knees and clutching his groin. "I won't be able to piss for a month!"  
"When people call you ‘little’, you learn to defend yourself," he said with a shrug. "You can call me Tommy."  
"Listen, Tommy, you can keep your chain. I'm gonna go," James said, awkwardly getting to his feet. He took his bag from the table.  
"Not until you give back the stuff from the stalls," Tommy said. "And I'm going to make the guards check each stall to make sure you put back everything."  
James snorted. "Like hell." But this was evidently the wrong answer. Tommy tackled him and tried to grab the bundle away. His legs were practically wrapped around James's waist, and as James fought to get his things back, he felt himself getting a little too excited, despite the recent blow to his manhood. "Give it back!" He cried, hoping Tommy didn't feel his...enthusiasm, which was still sore.  
"Nope. I gave you a way out and you have to stick to it," Tommy cried. He pushed the bag away, turning his head- and James threw his weight forward and knocked Tommy down onto his back. He grabbed the Prince's wrists and held them fast, straddling him.  
"You don't know the first thing about the real world. What someone like me has to do to survive," James hissed.  
He was surprised to see the Prince smiling up at him. "Then teach me," Tommy said. "Make me your partner, and we'll work the nobles over and give to the poor. I have the perfect cover."  
"...what?" James whispered. Their faces were dangerously close now, so close his hair was brushing Tommy's smooth cheek.  
"Make me your partner," Tommy repeated. "You're tempted. Admit it." And he actually thrust his hips forward just a little, rocking against James's hips in the process.  
James answered him by way of a kiss, seizing Tommy's smile with his mouth. Then Tommy sprang up and knocked James on his back again, laughing. As he sat on James's chest, the thief's loud cursing had attracted some attention, and a servant girl came and poked her head into the tent.  
"Prince Thomas!" the girl sighed as she watched him on top of James. She looked curious. "I didn’t realize you…um, do you _not_ want me to come to your room again tonight?”  
"Oh, I do, Cecile. But in the meantime, could you go distract my mom and dad? I need another minute here," Tommy said.  
"GET THE HELL OFF ME," James shouted. Cecile just giggled and left the tent.  
"Should I let you go?" Tommy said, whispering in James's ear as he held his arms down. "Or let someone find you here? You’re strong. You could throw me off you. But I don’t think you wanna do that, right?”  
"Hey, your parents would hang me if they saw me now," James replied. "You wouldn't do that.”  
"No, " Tommy said, growing serious for a moment. "I wouldn't. But why are you staying down?” He began rubbing James’s thigh and grinned. "You do look cute like this. Poor thing, getting caught…”  
Tommy’s hands were so warm and smooth against his body. James’s breathing grew heavier, more of a pant, and he struggled to speak: “Can you please let me go?”  
Tommy nodded and helped James sit up. “Would you think about making me your partner?"  
The thief and went to grab his pack. "You know the woods at the edge of Madison, the village? Where the river flows?" Tommy nodded eagerly. "Meet me there tomorrow night."  
"What time?" Tommy asked, and James rummaged inside the bag.  
"Midnight." He pulled out a strand of blown glass beads, a carved wooden Pegasus, and a silk scarf. Tommy recognized these things from the stalls, and he smiled as James put them down on the table next to Tommy’s gold chain.  
"I think that's everything. Give 'em back," James said. He halted. Should he try to kiss Tommy again? James took a breath- and then ducked down to push his bag out the side of the tent. _Better not to chance it. If he wanted to kiss me back, he would’ve done it. That was stupid of me anyway,_ he thought as he shoved his bag under the tent. _He was just messing with my head._  
"Don't forget," Tommy called. James turned around and Tommy tossed him the gold chain with the falcon on it.  
"Happy birthday, Tommy." And with that, James pulled the canvas up just enough to get his lanky body underneath and out of the tent.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________  
“I know me asking you to leave is asking a lot, after what you’ve been through,” Tommy said. “Once you get the money, I’ll go ahead of you. I’ll get a job and find us a place to live, and then I’ll try and find the safest way to send for you.”  
“You mean that?  
Tommy looked up at him- there was no awkwardness, and no charm, either. Just the middle ground, something totally real. “I wouldn’t ask you to leave unless I was sure you’d be okay. I don’t know if I can do right by a whole country of people, but if I can do right by one person, I want it to be you.”  
James came over and sat next to him. “Okay,” he said in a steady voice. “Thank you.”  
Tommy ‘s face lit up and for a moment, he truly believed everything really would work out, just as they’d said. “No, thank you,” he panted, planting an urgent kiss on James’s face. Soon, the whole household was asleep.


	7. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band finds their sound.

Noon came, and after everyone was fortified with tea and porridge (courtesy of John), preparations for the contest began. James and Tommy went off together to catch some fish while John and Chuck grabbed their instruments- tabor and bass viol, respectively- and went outside with Dennis. First, Dennis played them several of his songs: the ones he felt most comfortable with, songs that people had responded to during his travels. It turned out the first song he played them was the one John had already heard him playing in town. It was a melodic, but very somber song about a man reflecting on his absent lover. Chuck and John thought that his songs were good enough, but they asked if he had any others. This annoyed Dennis, because he had agonized over every note of his songs whenever he’d had a spare minute- and the pressure was all on him to help Chuck and John win. 

“That first song, is that one your favorite?” asked Chuck.

“I think it’s one of my better ones- I wrote about things I knew.”

John looked at him in a way that reminded Dennis of his own older brother. “Are a lot of those songs about her?”

“Uh…”

“It’s the look on your face when you sing,” John said. “You were thinking of someone real.”

“Some of them are about her,” Dennis sighed. “I mean, it was a while ago, there were other girls-“

“She left ya, didn’t she? And you still love her a little.” John said, nodding. “That’s why you’re so protective of that song. I had a girl like that once.”

"I don't know what you two are looking for," he said impatiently. “My personal life doesn’t enter into this. I played you what I have.”

"Well, your songs are really polished for someone who's not a court-trained musician," Chuck said. "It's obvious how much work you put into them. But a lot of people play romantic songs, and I think we need to stand out from the competition a little more." 

John interjected: "James played us that song-“ Then John realized his slip and cursed under his breath. 

"I thought James didn't play an instrument," Dennis said. 

"He doesn't like to play in front of people," Chuck said. "Just us, and Tommy."

"Is this why he wouldn’t talk before? Look, if you guys are gonna rake me over the coals, I can-“

Chuck’s voice went through another hairpin turn from pleasant to venomous. "This is the last time I’m gonna say it: We don't have to give you a cut of the money if you don't want it, or let you stay here. You can just take your chances getting handfuls of pennies at the tavern, sleep in the woods for a week, and wait until the next contest rolls around. Then you can go on stage and get lost in a sea of ten other moony-eyed guys singing about the girl they left behind! Then the Sheriff’s gonna come take the land our house is on, and we’ll be out on the street with you. And guess what- Whatsername will realize she was right to give up on you. When the going gets tough, you can’t go around blaming everyone else.”

Dennis felt like Chuck had just given him a beating; like he should get out and never look back. Maybe, he thought, he should take his chances on the street. But he remembered what John and Chuck had said about their mother and the house. She hadn’t complained when she’d had to raise two children alone. And how could Dennis help Bernadette, but not Chuck and John? They hadn’t asked anything impossible of him. Nothing he couldn’t do. _Oh God,_ Dennis thought, _what if Suzanne was right to give up on me? If I leave now…_

“I know a song,” Dennis said evenly. “I don’t know….all of it, or who wrote it. But I stopped me in my tracks when I heard it. Maybe it would have the same effect on other people.”

“That’s not much to go on,” Chuck said.

“It’s not a love song?” John said.

“No, it’s not- it’s passionate, but it’s contemplative,” he said, as much to himself as to the others. “There’s energy, but the feeling. People would respond to that longing.”

“Tell us!” Chuck cried.

‘Tommy was singing it when I found him in the woods,” Dennis said. The words came rushing out, like blood from a tooth that should have been pulled sooner.

“Oh, jeez,” Chuck said, rolling his eyes. “He said he was cleaning off, so I don’t think _the song_ got your attention.”

“We should at least hear which one,” John said. “He knows a lot of good ones. Even some of the ones he wrote are real good- but he plays at court, so he doesn’t want us spreading them around. People would find him.”

Dennis tried to play Tommy’s song on his concertina, but he couldn’t quite get it out. He couldn’t really remember the words either, but he kept on humming the snippet of the tune he did remember. _‘All roads lead to….’ What?_ He thought, wanting to cry out in frustration. “That reminds me,” he said, leaning back against a tree. “How’s Tommy been surviving out there in the woods for two weeks? That’s a big change for someone like him.”

“James checks up on him every couple days, but he does all right,” said Chuck. “He knows what berries won’t make him sick, how to shoot a bow and sleep under a tree.”

“Shoot a bow, I can understand. But the other stuff-“

“James taught him,” Chuck said.

“You’re sure you don’t remember any more of the song?” John said. He had been idly trying to get a blade of grass to ‘whistle’ in his hands while Dennis tried to reconstruct Tommy’s song. Several times, the brothers had asked him to just play something, _anything,_ but they didn’t get very far until Dennis insisted he had to keep working on the half-remembered song, claiming it was probably better than his own works anyway. In the interval, Chuck’s arms got tired, and he leaned his instrument against the garden fence.

“Give it a rest,” Chuck said to Dennis. “You’re not gonna find that song until he gets back.”

Dennis replied: “If you’re so knowledgeable, why didn’t you two enter the contest before?”

"We did," Chuck said, looking chagrined. "We found another guy who played the concertina, Wayne. He came over here to practice with us and stole our pig.” 

"You didn't....get it back?" Dennis asked warily. 

"Poor Mitzi. By the time we found her, Wayne’s kids were all eating bacon," John said sadly. "She was our last pig, too." 

"Didn't you call the sheriff?" 

"We asked him to arrest Wayne, but he was too busy making sausage out of the bribe Wayne gave him." Chuck said. "All the evidence was...destroyed, obviously. It'd be funny if it wasn't so tragic." 

Tommy and James returned, with poles slung over their backs and fish in hand for dinner.

“Catch anything?” John yelled, delivering the setup like a trained straight man.

“Yeah, a bad case of the clap,” James said. They both laughed, and Dennis could tell they had made this joke dozens and dozens of times.

“Tommy,” Dennis said, running up to him. “What was that song I heard you singing, the night we met?”  
"You mean when I was in the water?" Tommy looked over at James in confusion. His companion just shrugged, as if Dennis was beneath his notice. 

"Yeah, yeah," Dennis said, trying to ignore James. "I only heard a little of it, but it had something about…” He tried to sing what he remembered: “all roads lead to..?”

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said. “I wrote that.” James nodded in agreement.

“You did?” _Oh, this is bad,_ Dennis told himself. He’d been totally infatuated before, but never with a person _and_ their music. These feelings were probably not going to fade anytime soon. And how could he create a song as lovely as the one Tommy had already written?

‘You really think it’s good? My family’s always telling me to shut up,” Tommy said.

“Hey,” James interjected. “That’s one of your best songs.” He turned to Chuck and John. “You haven’t heard it yet, but it really is.”

“You know we’re trying to win that contest, right?” said Dennis. “Could you teach it to us?”

Tommy looked over at James, and gave him the fishing pole he’d been carrying. “Would you mind bringing that inside?”

“Nah, I got it,” James said. He looked like he was trying hard not to say more- his eyes were cast down. “Let me know if you need anything. And don’t let him take all the credit.” He trudged into the house, with the poles thumping against the door frame.

This was too much. “What?” Dennis cried. “I would never! I really do respect you, Tommy-“

“Well, you can’t use my name on it,” Tommy said. “I’m missing, remember? Just don’t tell anyone you wrote it.” He turned, eyes on the path James had just taken. “We ought to play inside so no one hears me,” he said softly. “I’ll get my mandolin.”

Dennis and John carried in Chuck’s bass viol and soon everyone was gathered inside in a little circle- except James, who was cleaning and gutting the fish, making vegetable soup, and doing other assorted chores around the house. He said nothing, but his work got much quieter when Tommy began to sing and play for the group.

“ _Take me back to my boat on the river, I need to go down, I need to come down…”_

The song was a simple one that sounded like it could have been handed down for many years. But when Dennis watched Chuck and John’s faces, he knew they were impressed by the lilting melody that he’d remembered. Unsurprisingly, it was Tommy’s performance that affected Dennis the most. Tommy’s voice was clear and pure, with every note sounding effortless. When he crossed from the voice of a young man into his highest register, the sound was so sweet and angelic that it was impossible to tell whether a man or a woman was singing. Dennis instantly understood while people in the woods thought they had heard two different voices. The song ended, and the house was still. Even James had stopped working to listen.

“That’s it,” Chuck said. “That’s gonna win. At least I think so.”

‘You thought right,” John said.

Tommy looked rather pleased, and Dennis said: “So finally, we’re all agreed.”

“Why didn’t you play that for us before?” Chuck said to Tommy.

“I really like it, but it’s kinda simple,” Tommy said. “I didn’t think people would be impressed with it, if they knew I wrote it.”

“I think the simplicity is what makes it beautiful,” Dennis said.

“Thank you,” Tommy said graciously, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“Lucky thing you brought that with you,” Chuck said, pointing to Tommy’s mandolin.

“I wanted to play for James,” Tommy said. James put down the broom he was using and walked over, placing his hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Sounded great,” James said.

“You want to join us?” Tommy asked. “You don’t have to...”

“I have too much to do,” James said, abruptly moving back towards his work. “Your soup’s looking good but I need to cook the fish right before we eat it. Besides, you guys are busy in here; they gotta win that money.”

While James chopped wood for the fire, gutted fish and did other odds and ends around the house, Tommy spent the better part of the afternoon teaching the other three musicians his song. It wasn’t complicated, but somehow once they were all playing, the song just wasn’t the same, especially when Dennis was singing by himself. James had finished cooking and cleaning up around the hearth. He looked over at the group and rolled his eyes yet again, which was starting to annoy Dennis even more than that stupid smirk. Then he headed off towards his little bedroom. _He just flounced out of the room like he’s better than any of us._ _How rude- especially when he practically threatened to chase me out if we don’t win. Doesn’t he take anything seriously?_

James came back a moment later… with a guitar. Chuck and John looked shocked, but Tommy was beaming. “You remember how it goes,” he said to James.

James nodded and took a seat. He went right into the song and did not meet anyone’s eyes but Tommy’s.

“You’re sure….?” Chuck asked James. The thief only nodded in reply, and kept playing.

"You're pretty good," Dennis said after a few moments.

"Mmmmhmm," James said, playing a bit more forcefully. He came to the end of the song, then said: “All right. Now you sing over me.” They got halfway through the song, with Dennis on vocals, when James held up a hand and said: "Wait, stop." 

Dennis braced himself for another round of insults. "Yes?" 

"Am I the only one who noticed this," James said, "or does it sound a lot better when you two are singing at the same time? Like, when you were teaching him. It really sounds fuller when it’s both of you, not just one.”

The concertina almost fell out of Dennis’s hands and onto to the floor. Had James actually complimented him? 

"Yeah," John said. "Your voices do blend together really well." 

"Tommy can't go onstage," Chuck said. "He's supposed to be in hiding."

"That's right," Tommy said. 'We don't even have a plan to get me out of the kingdom. How can I sing in front of all those people?”

“Well, I wanted to take him-“ James jerked his thumb over at Dennis- “tonight to case the joint so he wouldn’t stick out so much tomorrow. I’ll check if there’s a quick way to get you out of there. Maybe I can ask Vidya.”

"Who's Vidya?" Dennis said. 

"The tavern keeper," James said. "Her uncle owns the building."

Dennis raised his eyebrows. "She runs the tavern all by herself?"

"Well, yeah," James replied. He looked at Dennis as if he'd just soiled himself. 

"She could _own_ the building, if she had enough money. Where’ve you been?” John asked Dennis. But he softened a bit: "Oh...you mean that's how things are, where you're from- women still can’t own property.”

"I keep forgetting things are a little different here," Dennis replied sheepishly. 

"That law was my cousin's idea. I think the only reason my parents went along with it was so she'd agree to marry me," Tommy muttered. "But they’ve been able to raise property taxes 3 years running, so they were cool with it." 

“John, you come with us,” James said. “I’ll be looking for an escape, and any suspicious characters. You work the crowd as usual so they don’t notice me sneaking around.”

“I’m kinda suspicious already,” John said. “Should I tone it down? At least for the Sheriff, that big jerk.”

James laughed. “No, we’re gonna need it.” He stared at Dennis. “As for you, just…work on blending in, and don’t be offended if no one tells you how brilliant you are.”

“Why don’t you do the same?” Dennis sneered.

Chuck was setting out the dinner James had cooked, and he turned to Tommy. “Looks like it’s just you and me after dinner. We’ll get the chess board out and I can mop the floor with you. “

“There’s no point in playing when you always beat me,” Tommy sighed. “If the guys were here, we could play whist and I might have a chance-“

“Yeah, ‘might’,” Chuck replied.

“Hey, I know,” John said, sticking his head into the conversation and looking at Tommy. “We can play poker when I get back.”

Tommy smiled. “So you can keep bluffing all night? At this rate, if we didn’t play for buttons, I’d owe you a new house.”

“Well, if we don’t win the contest-“

“Come on, guys, James cooked,” Chuck said. “We should eat before it gets cold.”


	8. Casing the Joint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys head out. They get into a bit of trouble. And now we know P. Burke's least favorite album in the back catalog.

“What exactly did you mean by ‘blend in?’” Dennis asked. They were walking to town, with John leading the way. There was a light breeze in the air and the sun was just setting, giving them enough time to get there before the night was over. As they walked on ahead, the woods receded.

“I mean, don’t act like you’re from Hicksville or where the hell ever,” James said. “And don’t draw a lot of attention to yourself. If we have to sneak Tommy in tomorrow, and something goes wrong, a newcomer is the first person they’ll be suspicious of.”

“Ease up on him,” John said. “You’ll be fine, Dennis. People know me there, so I’ll do all the talking.” They got to the Golden Stag just as the sun sank down. Many people were coming in for some respite after a hard day of work, and the tavern was located right at the edge of town. There was open space behind the building and on the left side, so people had room to leave their horses. There was even a little stream behind the building, a source of fresh water for patrons and horses alike. The hearth was lit in welcome and most of the tables were already full. James looked unsure of where they should ‘case the joint,’ when they heard someone call: “JOHN!” The cry came from a large group of tough-looking men near the front of the bar, smiling like they were children on Christmas morning. “JOHN! You bastard, where have you been?” Everyone was slapping him on the back, asking him questions, trying to get his attention. Even some girls were coming over, waving and giggling. John looked as he often did, smiling and content to see where things led. _Lucky John,_ thought Dennis. He couldn’t recall anyone in Glandelinia ever being that happy to see him. The long oaken bar was situated not far from the front door. There was a small window by the bar, and what might have been a back door in the dark oaken wall. Across the from the bar, but not touching the opposite wall, was a platform that served as a stage, with a doorway peeking through some curtains behind it. He glanced around the bar to get a feel for the crowd and saw two young men sitting together, tenderly kissing each other on the lips. Dennis had never seen such a thing before, certainly not in a public house. Didn't anyone else notice? Wouldn't those men be reprimanded?

"Don't," James hissed, nudging him. Dennis looked at him blankly, and James said, more sharply: "Don't stare. It's rude.”

"Oh..." Dennis looked at his feet. He hadn’t thought about his own behavior, just that of the two men.

"Remind me, where _are_ you from?" James asked.

"Glandelinia." 

"That explains a lot," James said. He wasn’t just smirking, he was grinning. “Did they kick you out for showing your pretty ankles?" 

Dennis decided to ignore that comment, and how it made his cheeks burn. "Well… I’m in no place to judge.” James nodded. “But where I’m from, most people there don't really, er, encourage that type of thing.” He nodded in the direction of the two men who were kissing.

"Here, as long as the police aren't looking, nobody minds," James said. 

"He's right," a voice said. The speaker was a curvy young woman with long brown braids. She leaned forward, showing off her cleavage. "Name’s Hildy. Got any money, boys? I'll show you how I learned to uncork a bottle with my pussy." 

"I don't have any money," Dennis said in a strained, mortified voice. 

"He's taken," James said, and put his arm around Dennis.

Hildy smiled and walked away. "Sorry, boys. Carry on.”

Dennis hurriedly stepped away from James, who cracked up laughing.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Dennis muttered, dusting himself off.

“It’s cool,” James said. “You’re too prissy for me. Besides, I already saw her do it.”

"This must be a pretty wild place," Dennis said, looking around.

"I've seen worse," James said darkly.

That jarred something loose in Dennis’s mind. “Are you gonna play with us tomorrow? I mean, you never said why you didn’t want to before.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I played at the house today because your song needed it. And that’s all you need to know.” Dennis was about to protest this when James said: “Oh, hold on, here comes Vidya. Hi, Vidya." 

The tavern keeper smiled at James. She was a tall woman who moved easily through the crowd, with long black hair and brown skin. Her hair was tied back in a braid, and she wore a loose turquoise dress with matching pants underneath. 

"It's been a while since we've seen you, James. And John and…oh, you’re not Chuck. Who’s this?” she said, taking Dennis in. 

“A friend,” James replied. “Give him my usual.” He held out two silver coins and she accepted them with a rather familiar smile.

"Of course. You're always so generous with your friends, James." She pulled a man over and asked him to go get two mugs of beer for James and Dennis, from the big round barrel behind the bar.

Dennis tilted his head, indicating Vidya. “Are you and her, uh…?”

“You mean is she _my lover_? Or as people say ‘round these parts: are we knockin’ boots?” James said. Dennis made a disgusted face, which only made James snicker. “That happened a while ago; we’re just friends now. I...meet a lot of people here, though." 

The young man went over to the barrel, filled two mugs from the spigot, then came over with their beers. James tipped him with a few copper coins and raised his mug to Vidya: “ Thanks. I’d come visit you even if I couldn’t get plastered.”

‘You’re full of it,” she laughed, and went about her work. Dennis sipped his beer- he wasn’t much of a drinker, but he had to admit it tasted good.

“Ok, so the Sheriff should be here soon,” James said. “Now if he’s onto us and we need a distraction, we can fake a bar fight.” He downed a long swig of beer and put his mug on the bar for later.

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that before….so how do you fake a fight? That sounds dangerous.”

The thief gave a wink and lowered his voice to a whisper: “Like, if I punch you lightly, and you react to it like I hit you real hard, it can look real. Go, on, pretend to hit me.” Dennis frowned, sipping his beer again and James said: “C’mon, try and get me back for all the stuff I said about you earlier!” After taking a moment to put his mug down, Dennis lightly cuffed the thief’s shoulder. James pulled back like he was in pain and groaned loudly. There were some mocking whistles and whispers from those nearby. But soon, the bar’s attention was yanked away from the mock fight. A patron had taken Hildy up on her offer, and she proudly flipped up her skirt to show off her legs. She said: “This is your lucky day, mister! Just put it right there and I’ll carry it to the back. My panties are crotchless and my muscles are real strong!”

Someone cried:"The Sheriff's coming!" In a flurry, Hildy put her skirts down and the two men who had been kissing awkwardly sat on their hands. 

"Man, that was shitty timing," James said. "I swear somebody planned that." He whispered softly in Dennis's ear: "Ok, play it cool. I've managed to not be arrested all this time because our Sheriff is a total idiot-" 

"Really, I thought it was your calm demeanor and catlike reflexes," Dennis said dryly. “You being a master criminal.”

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you," James growled. 

James explained that the two people following the Sheriff were his deputy, Todd, and his 'personal assistant', a statuesque woman named Dorabella. All three of them wore black shirts, trousers and leather vests. "Glen’s old man was the Sheriff, then the job got handed over to his only son.” If Dennis had been asked to describe Glen's face with one word, that word would have been 'smug.' Glen wore his dark, wavy hair in a queue, and the tight black shirt of his sheriff’s uniform was open practically to his navel. This combo prompted Dennis to remark: "And people think _I’m_ looking for attention…”

"Evening, Sheriff," Vidya said coming out from behind the counter. "Can I help you?"

“I’m just on my rounds,” Glen said. “Making sure there’s nothing sketchy happening, you know the drill.” He looked around the room and his eyes stopped on John. Dennis realized that if he was going to try and make an escape, now was the time to do it, so he started inching towards the back door near the bar.

“I’m sure nothing’s out of the ordinary,” Todd was telling Vidya. “Honestly, you run one of the safest bars in the kingdom.”

“Hi, Dorabella,” John said shyly. She nodded and began to speak, but Glen interrupted her. 

“Hey, you,” Glen said. “Who the hell’s that over there?”

“Hey, you too, Sheriff. You mean my brother? ” John said, pointing to James. “You guys know each other, right?”

“Oh, how could I forget?” James said sarcastically. “On the beat to chase after married women and arrest the homeless. How’s that working out for you, Glen?”

“I don’t mean him!” Glen said.

“Oh, you mean Chuck,” John said. “He’s at home.”

“Not your twin,” Glen snapped. He pointed directly behind John to Dennis, who’d almost reached the back door. “I mean him, who was talking to James. Where the hell are you going?”

“Yeah, who is that?” one of John’s friends said. They started staring at Dennis, who felt panicked.

“I’m new around here,” he began. But John finished:

“Oh, well, he and I met on the way here, and let me tell ya, how I got here was quite a story,” John said. Now everyone was snapping their attention back to John, even Glen. Dennis sighed a little in relief.

“We missed you, John,” a girl said, batting her long eyelashes. “Where’ve ya been?”

“And tell us everything,” Glen said. His eyes narrowed.

“Glen, people need _paperwork_ for a police confession,” Todd muttered.

“Last week, the highwayman busted into our place, and he took everything,” John said hurriedly.

“Your mother’s silver?” one woman said.

“Your fragment of the True Cross?” another man asked, mouth agape.

“He got it all,” John said.

“What silver?” Dennis muttered to James. “Have they ever even _seen_ your place?”

“No. He makes up stuff like this all the time, and they fall for it. I think they just like listening to him talk. Now shut the hell up,” James whispered. He pointed to the exit Dennis had tried to leave through. “So, that exit’s out, better find another one.”

“Is there another door?” Dennis whispered. James gestured with his thumb. It was behind the crowd, and the stage. Dennis would have to hope John could keep everyone distracted.

“Personally, I don’t think you had too many valuables for the highwayman to rip off,” Glen said to John, eyes narrowed, “But the value on my land better not have gone down.” The crowd seemed more annoyed than anything by this interruption.

“Oh, well, that’s why the highwayman came and took all our stuff,” John said, inventing wildly. He looked over at Dennis, who motioned for him to keep talking. “Y’know, Sheriff, the land there is just…so nice… the highwayman wanted it. I was out back that night, and I had to see a man about a dog.”

“Just say you were taking a piss,” Todd told John. “Get to the point.”

“Well, in the middle of my constitutional,” John said, “I look over and there’s this …shadowy guy, burying something right in the middle of our land. It was a _body.”_

“Oh my gosh,” one girl said. “Prince Thomas!”

“Well, that’s what I said to him, I said- that must be the prince, you’re the prime suspect on that. I’m gonna call the sheriff, and they’ll book you for, uh….”

“That’d be a code 846,” Todd said. “Regicide.”

“Regicide. Yeah. And he looks over at me, and he says in this raspy voice, ‘You will pay for seeing this- with your life,’” John said, cupping his hands over his mouth and speaking in a strange voice. He continued as himself: “Well, I just grabbed my knife and he pulled out this big-ass knife, and next thing ya know, knife fight.” There were some low whistles. “And he had… those crazy eyes, like when you know somebody’s a killer! And I said to him: “Why’d you come here?” and I stabbed at him and he almost brought the knife down over my head, but I blocked it.” Murmurs ran through the crowd.

“Why did he want the land? Isn’t he always moving around?” Dorabella asked.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said,” John said, off to the races once more. “So he said ‘Because… I really hate the sheriff, he must own half the town. What a jerk. Now it’s my turn. I want his power, his gold…and I want a date with that cute girl who’s his partner, and maybe a pension.’ ” The crowd gasped, except James, who knew that John was voicing his own opinions. For once, he managed to keep that familiar smirk to himself.

‘And then what’d you say?” Glen asked, looking like he would clobber John with his truncheon if he didn’t like the answer.

“Did he say anything else about me?” Dorabella asked, confused.

“Oh, Sheriff, I told him you were a….great guy,” John said vaguely. Glen nodded. Todd did not look convinced. Dennis was almost at the back door, hoping no one would ask where he was going. “And that everyone in town loved you. But he said he was going to get revenge on you. I was all ready to defend you, when the corpse…. _rose from its grave,_ ” John said with a very dramatic flourish. Quite a few people gasped.

Dennis bolted over the platform and to the door behind it, while the crowd was distracted. He pushed the curtain on the back door aside to reveal a little antechamber with a mirror on the wall, a door with a heavy lock and a door with a sign on it that said TO THE PRIVY.

“Thank God,” he whispered as he took the ‘privy’ door and ducked outside.

“We can book the highwayman for the corpse too,” Glen said, nudging Todd. “Witchcraft.”

“We’re gonna need a little more to go on,” Todd said.

But John was still in his element: “He said, ‘return to your master in hell, demon!’ But the dead guy just kept coming, and went to strike the highwayman. The highwayman bolted outta there on his horse! So I turned to the corpse…and it was that guy you saw earlier! The highwayman only THOUGHT he was dead- turns out he was just knocked out. He’s from… Voluminia, he’s trying to raise enough money to get a ride back.” Everyone was rather impressed and quite a few people clapped and cheered.

“Oh yeah,” said the girl who’d been hanging on John’s every word. “You saved his life…did anyone know him? He didn’t look too familiar.”

“That wasn’t the prince,” a man in the crowd said. “He’s gorgeous. I mean, I’ve never been up close to him, but you know what I’m saying. This guy was kinda dumpy looking.” James stifled a laugh.

“I didn’t get a good look at him,” Dorabella said. “Did you, Todd?”

“Uh…he was a white guy…” Todd said. “Dark hair? That could be several people in the room right now, though.”

“God damn it, you two,” Glen said. “Forget this half-assed story. The highwayman is the one we should be going after. If we can get rid of him, our jobs will be a hundred times easier.”

“Right,” Dorabella said sarcastically. “Because nobody’ll ever commit a crime again, _ever_ , once we bring him in.”

“If we bagged that asshole,” Glen muttered, “I’d _really_ be Sheriff then, not ‘Paul’s son,’ that’s for damn sure. Todd, help me out here: do you think the highwayman is a warlock?”

“I don’t know,” Todd said, sounding like he was about to lose his patience. “A lot of people think magic is one big conspiracy theory.”

“Okay, so maybe we don’t go that route.”

During this discussion Dennis had returned through the front door and ushered James out through the front. No one had noticed them because everyone had been asking John about the ‘walking corpse’ and the ‘curse’ the highwayman had uttered.

“That wasn’t bad, but we’ll need one hell of a distraction,” James muttered. “We’ll talk it over with the guys when we get back. Let’s let John visit with his friends while, he’ll be home soon.”


	9. You know, like on F Troop....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is a reference to ...just google 'Freakazoid F Troop." The video is 25 seconds long, lol.

“Okay, all,” Dennis said, as they all held a conference around the family table. “In brief, it is possible to get out of there in a hurry, but it’s not easy. Tommy, you might attract too much attention.”

“Let’s just steal the money,” James groaned.

“We stand to make a lot more money this way than you ever did by robbing people,” Dennis pointed out. 

“Thanks for shitting all over my dream of being a career criminal,” James said. 

“I can’t perform for a big crowd,” Tommy said. “Someone’s gonna know it’s me.” 

“I think you’re going to have to wear a disguise,” John said. “I know that song can win, but James is right. You both have to sing it.”

“Oh man,” Tommy said, pacing the room. “If only we had an eye patch. Maybe I could make one?” 

“Sounds great,” Chuck said. He picked Muffin up from the table and placed him on the floor in front of the water dish. “One dazzling blue eye instead of two. That’ll really throw off everyone who’s already looking for you.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m way ahead of you. I had a contingency plan, from when I first heard people were looking for Tommy.” John came over holding a potato sack- a sack that had not only held potatoes, but had POTATOES printed on it in black lettering. 

“You call this a disguise?” Tommy said.

John looked rather hurt. “Hey, I cut eye holes in it.”

Tommy held a corner of the bag up in distaste. “What am I supposed to be, a leper?”

“But it’s got holes in the fabric, so you’ll be able to breathe,” John said. “I even moved our potato stash to a basket, just for you.” 

“That’ll be your name on the streets,” James said. He couldn’t help snort-laughing behind the fist he held to his lips. “Potatoes, lover of the highwayman.” James leaned forward and broke into a full fit of laughter, so hard he was gasping for air.

“Cut it out,” Tommy groaned. He turned to Chuck. “You must have something I can make an eyepatch out of.” 

“We could try shaving your head,” Chuck said mildly. 

“You do, and I’ll shave off your eyebrows while you’re asleep,” Tommy shot back.

“It’s got to be more than that,” Dennis said. “It’s like what you did last time we all went out, John. You didn’t have a _good_ story about who I was, but you were so committed to it that no one wanted to argue with you. The crowd loved you, although they already knew you. If we can win the crowd over, I think we can make this work. But we have to figure out how to hide Tommy before we can work on the act.”

“Sure,” Tommy said. Then he looked at Dennis and his expression changed a little, as if he thought of something embarrassing. Naturally, this made the resident poet nervous, until Tommy spoke up: “Well…committed? There’s one thing we could do, but it’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“What?” Chuck said.

“Oh, it’s a dumb idea, actually,” Tommy said, reddening. “No one would ever fall for it, and we’d be stupid to even try it.”

“Well, most of you do qualify,” Chuck said. “Let’s hear it.”

“I…look, nobody laugh.”

James had a moment of clarity cross his face, and put his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “But you- look, you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. Really.”

John looked over to his brother, who shrugged. “Um, what’s going on?” John asked.

Tommy sighed, and his gentle voice shook a little: “Uh, ok. When I was 8 years old, my cousin Melisande and I got teased because we looked alike. My hair was only a little shorter than it is now. So we thought it would be funny and serve everybody right if we swapped clothes. We had it all planned out. I made it through most of her drawing lesson and fooled our teacher, but she got caught right away by our riding instructor…my parents were so angry at me. But she thought it was fun.”

James gently said: “You said you had fun, too, right?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied. He kept his eyes fixed on James, as if his lover were an important point he didn’t want to lose. “She and I still joke about it when no one’s around, sometimes. She’s said I could probably get away with it now cause we’re the same height. ….look, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’m not making any sense.”

“That’s…not bad,” Dennis said slowly. He realized this sounded a little like the night they met, and he didn’t want to offend him. “You’re comfortable doing it; if we acted naturally, no one would question it! It’s about committing to the lie, like John here.” 

“I don’t follow,” John said. “Are we not going with the sack?” 

“If this idiotic idea does work, people will think I’m Melisande!” Tommy said. "Where would that leave us?" 

“Then that’s your cover,” Dennis said, trying to convince himself that this wasn’t going to blow up in their faces. “You went undercover as a peasant girl, to hunt down the man that jilted you!” Tommy looked ready to send his knuckles undercover to Dennis’s teeth, but Dennis held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, it happens in plays all the time.” 

James asked: “Anyone got a better idea?” There was silence. “Oldest trick in the book it is. I should see if Vidya has something we could borrow.”

Two hours later, when some old things of Vidya’s had been borrowed and Tommy had gotten himself ready, he finally opened the bedroom door. His bearing was still proud, even as he said: “I know I said everyone in this town was an idiot, but there's no way they'll be stupid enough to believe this."The room scarcely heard a word he said- they were all transfixed, looking at him. He had on one of the dresses- it was in a soft, billowing sky- blue fabric, with a white kirtle underneath. There had also been some ribbons and hairpins in the bundle Vidya had sent, so Tommy had also braided part of his hair, then pinned the braid across the crown of his head like a garland. Finally, he had tied a blue silk ribbon around his neck, like a choker. It didn't matter what type of person the clothing had been made for- he looked exquisite. The tight bodice and long skirt added length to his petite frame and showed off his slim waist. Tommy didn’t quite look female, but his natural grace was now at the forefront. Nothing about him looked foolish or ungainly. His friends literally had their mouths open in awe, but Tommy thought this was shock. “Okay,” he said in frustration. “I know, I know, it was a terrible idea- I look like a clown. It could have been a lot worse; she had some makeup in there, and I didn’t put it on.”

‘You’re hot,” John said, as if he was looking out the window and observing that it was raining.

“Well said,” Chuck said. He clapped his brother on the back and turned back to Tommy. “I mean, you don’t look exactly like a girl, but you look really nice. Not like you’re hiding. You might actually make this work.”

“Are you shitting me?” Tommy whispered.

"Whoa, you even put the bodice on,” James whispered. "You tied it tight.”

Tommy nodded, with a trickster’s glint in his eye. “Well, if I’m gonna blend in…. I padded it just a little.” The prince gestured to his chest. “I put a pair of your leggings in front, otherwise it wouldn’t fit me right.”

James drew Tommy close and Dennis heard him whisper in his ear: “You look good in anything. And nothing.” 

“You-uh, it’s great,” Dennis said, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. He couldn’t begin to fathom all the things he was feeling right now- desire, jealousy towards James, fear that everyone in the room would look at him in disgust and tell him to leave. He even felt inspired that Tommy could easily do something most men would never be brave enough to attempt. He took Tommy aside and tried not to think about how James and Chuck were eyeing him suspiciously: “Tommy, if you’ve done this before, why were you so upset?”

"I told you," he said, letting out an exasperated puff of breath. "It's a stupid idea. I might look great, but it's still a plan anyone could see through." 

"No, I mean the night I met you," Dennis faltered. "At first. When I thought you were a girl, because I didn’t see you too well…?”

"I thought you were making fun of me," he replied.

“I wouldn’t!”

"I had no way to know that,” Tommy pointed out, and Dennis felt shamed. “And like I said, my parents hit the roof when they saw me in a dress. My mom slapped me. My dad looked at me like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. I was only eight years old, but things like that don’t totally leave you.”

Dennis knew his own parents probably would have had the same reaction if Tommy had been their son. But it was still a painful thing to consider, two parents being so disgusted and angry at a child who’d done no wrong. “I’m sorry about that night, and I’m especially sorry about what happened to you when you were a kid.”

“Thanks,” Tommy said. “Can I just say… I think I look good right now. If it was just me and James seeing me like this, I would feel good. But in front of people- what if this doesn’t work at all, or my parents find out?”

"We’re gonna get in, get the money, and get out of there,” Dennis said, trying to sound confident. “No one will ever know it’s really you. And you look really good.”

“It’s not much of a plan, but it’s the best we’ve got with less than 24 hours,” Chuck said solemnly. “I vote we practice this song a couple more times, then get a good night’s rest. Gonna be a hell of a day tomorrow.”


	10. I Touched Your Golden Hair and Tasted Your Perfume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long gratuitous sex scene (P. Burke, the mark of quality!).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night" by The Electric Prunes.   
> I wrote this for Carmen, so I hope she likes it!

Dennis went to go use the privy after practice, then entered the barn to get some sleep. A lantern had been lit and hung up above his 'bed,' out of harm's way. He saw Tommy, carrying a gray wool blanket with one hand and petting James's horse with the other. "Hi, Antares," Tommy said. The horse nuzzled him with his nose. "Good boy." The animal couldn’t have been so comfortable with him, Dennis reasoned, unless Tommy and James were very close. The prince had also changed back into his everyday clothes; white shirt and leggings.  
"Hi," Dennis said quietly, trying not to seem like he was spying on Tommy.   
"Hey, you," Tommy said. His face lit up in a smile. "I felt bad you didn't have much of a real bed. This is for you." He held out the blanket. "I left you a pillow, too."   
"Thanks," Dennis replied, taking it and putting it over his left arm. He noticed the pillow, a large and extravagantly fluffy one, sitting on the pile of hay. "I thought the blanket was maybe for the horses..."  
"Nah. I brought those from home a while ago, for when I come visit. I don't usually stay overnight, so you’re welcome to them."   
"But you always stay in James's room?"   
"Yeah,” Tommy said warily. He seemed to be ready to be told to get out.   
"No, I mean, you and he obviously have- well you've known each other a long time-uh, Tommy," Dennis said. Well, he told himself, it’s now or never. "I guess you already figured this out, but I find you very… attractive. I think I knew you were a guy, and I just didn’t want to admit it. I’m sorry about that.”   
“Yeah, I could tell. But thanks, I appreciate the apology,” Tommy said softly.  
“Thanks,” Dennis said, plowing ahead in relief. “That being said, I respect what you have with James-"   
Tommy reached over and grabbed Dennis's right hand. Then he lifted it to his lips and kissed it, as only a prince could. He released the trembling hand and met the poet's eyes with his own. "I like you, too. You’ve got a very sweet way about you, when you’re not trying to be the smartest guy in the room.”   
"...what?" Dennis could hardly believe it. "But you and James, aren't you a couple?"   
“He’s my lover, but he’s also my best friend,” Tommy said. "From the beginning, we agreed we could see other people on the side, if we wanted to. We don’t keep that a secret. We try to tell each other everything.”   
"Oh." Dennis was a still a little envious- not of the fact that James and Tommy could probably have anyone they wanted, but of the fact that they were best friends. He had always wanted that in a partner, but had never found it. “I…I mean, that’s good.”  
Tommy stepped close to him. "Want to lay down?" He inclined his head over to the pile of hay with the pillow. "You can put the blanket down."   
Now here it was, that changing moment, and Dennis's mouth was dry. His thoughts were racing, and that prickle at the back of his mind dug in further. He felt that deep down, despite what he’d been taught, this wasn’t morally wrong. But would Tommy even remember him afterward? Especially compared to James, and countless other people. "Don't...feel that you have to," Dennis said. In his heart he longed to say, yes, I've waited for this moment. When I could kiss you and feel your body against mine, my prince. "If it doesn't really mean anything to you, you don't have to."   
"It does," Tommy said. "Dennis, you're not James, but you're you, and I like you. When you found out who I really was, instead of a girl, you didn't mind. I realize now you didn’t mock me- I was being defensive. You respected me when I told you about what happened, when I was a kid. You remembered my song after only hearing a few seconds of it, and you’re very dedicated to your music. Not only that, you’re really talented. And when you were singing with me...that's when I knew I really wanted to. Do you want to?”   
Dennis knew if he didn't say something now, that moment would be gone forever. Maybe everything, no matter how bizarre, had been leading them to this? Even if it was a random accident and it didn’t last forever, his heart told him yes, now. He gave Tommy the blanket. They looked at one another for an agonizingly long moment, until Dennis put his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. With only a gentle parting of their lips, Dennis kissed him. "Please,” he said, as if the moment might shatter like glass.   
Tommy spread the blanket on the hay and lay down. Some moonlight had come in through a crack in the barn door. In this light, Dennis thought Tommy looked even more like one of the alluring spirits of the water- the Undine, the Siren, the Naiad. He felt unworthy to see himself reflected in his Tommy’s shining eyes.   
“Lay down with me,” his prince said softly, and it was as if he was singing to Dennis once more. Dennis settled himself onto the blanket and grabbed Tommy’s hand, pressing it to his cheek.  
“Are you sure you want this?” Dennis asked. Tommy nodded. He calmly started unbuttoning the dark blue waistcoat Dennis always wore, but Dennis stopped him. “You’re sure about James?”   
“He really doesn’t mind.” Tommy smiled knowingly. “Should I ask him to join us?”   
“Wha- no!” Dennis spluttered. “No, I would really rather not...”  
“It’s all right, I was trying to make a joke,” Tommy laughed and took Dennis in his arms, rubbing his shoulders. “Just relax, you’re so tense.” He looked uncertain for a moment and said: “I hope I don’t make you nervous. If you change your mind, it’s all right.”   
“No, it’s not you,” Dennis said. “I just never did this before.” He didn’t reveal: I almost did, but she gave back my engagement ring and that was that.  
“Really?” Tommy said, his eyes wide in disbelief.   
“I was waiting for the right person.”   
“Me? Aw, stop.” He lightly bussed the corner of Dennis’s mouth.  
“I knew instantly,” Dennis said, gazing very seriously at Tommy. “You shine, like-“   
The prince reached out and put a finger to Dennis’s lips. “I already know you’re a writer. Don’t tell me with words…tell me like this.” Gently, he moved Dennis’s arms around his own waist. Then he put his hand behind Dennis’s head, cradling it, and moved to kiss him more deeply. They explored, continuing to hold and touch one another as they kissed: memorizing the curve of a lip, the feeling of a waiting mouth brushing against one’s ear. Tommy managed to undo the waistcoat and open the laces at the front of Dennis’s shirt, then left a kiss on Dennis’s chest. When Tommy broke away, he stretched and took off his own shirt. At last he had chosen to reveal himself, and his lover could see him as he really was- toned, tan, blooming with youth.   
“Oh,” Dennis said breathlessly. “You’re beautiful…” He ran his fingers in intricate patterns over the smooth muscles of Tommy’s chest, lost in his lover’s body. Tommy was fascinated too, but his eyes didn’t leave Dennis’s hands or his long, slim fingers.  
“I will tell you one thing,” Tommy murmured. Dennis slowed a little, looking expectant. “You have the most perfect hands. Never seen anything like them- not on any musician, any of the nobility.” He bowed his head and kissed the hand closest to him, the one resting over the hollow of his own neck. Dennis gasped as Tommy took his hand and began sucking on those lily-white fingers…taking them into his mouth and wrapping his tongue around them obscenely, his lips soft but pressed so tightly together. Tommy even let out a delighted little purr as he sucked, and the sound had Dennis hard in an instant. He was overcome as Tommy, his lips slick and rosy, pressed Dennis’s hand to his own face. He kissed the raised bone on Dennis’s outer wrist; fluttered his lashes against the hand; nuzzled it with his cheek. Dennis was starting to feel weak and didn’t want this to end too soon, so he helped Tommy get the rest of his clothes off. When he finally saw Tommy nude, wanting him, he grew desperate with longing. He slipped a graceful hand between Tommy’s legs. “Let me worship you,” Dennis whispered, stroking his lover. “The way you should be, the way I’ve longed to.”   
“Show me,” Tommy said urgently. He lay back and watched as Dennis’s hands lingered over his cock. Then Dennis took Tommy fully in hand and cupped his sex, striving to remain gentle. He moved his hand up and down, still in awe of what he was doing for the very first time.   
‘Like this?” Dennis asked, so hopeful. Tommy nodded and smiled for him to continue. He quickened his pace, feeling Tommy’s sex straining under him. In awe, he watched Tommy surrender to the lust they both felt– his face flushing; his head tossing back; his toes curling…in the space of a few minutes, Tommy became his.  
“I’m getting close… need to feel your lips, not just your hands,” Tommy pleaded. His body was teasingly sprawled back, just inviting someone to get on top. Dennis dove his head forward and took Tommy into his mouth.   
“Oh,” Tommy breathed, his back arching sharply. “God!” He grabbed Dennis’s head and held him fast. As he let his hands get lost in that forest of dark curls, he moved his hips in time with his lover’s willing mouth. Tommy wasn’t a powerfully built man, but he did have real power between his legs.  
“Please, let me come in your mouth,” Tommy whispered. Dennis nodded and kept his pace steady. With a final thrust of his hips, Tommy let out a cry that could have been a beautiful high note, and his desire spilled out of him. Dennis couldn’t believe he had made Tommy feel this way. But the man on top pulled away and rose suddenly, before Dennis was done swallowing. Now Tommy was standing and Dennis was on his knees.   
“Why don’t you lick up what’s left,” Tommy whispered in a surprisingly masterful tone. He smiled and caressed his lover’s cheek.   
Dennis swallowed and returned a smile with a touch less confidence. Tenatively, he stuck out his tongue, dipped his head, and carefully licked Tommy’s sex clean. His touch was light, but enough to make Tommy roll his hips forward, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure.   
“Perfect,” Tommy whispered. He helped Dennis to his feet and kissed him. “Thank you.”   
“You’re welcome,” Dennis whispered, his green eyes still dazed and starry. The prince looked down between his lover’s legs and ran a hand down Dennis’s cock. It was outlined in sharp relief against his gray leggings.   
“Time for me to deflower you,” Tommy said wryly. Dennis’s face went scarlet- yes, that would be what was happening, wouldn’t it? Tommy had finished, but he hadn’t. The way Tommy said it, Dennis thought, he almost didn’t need to go any further- he’d said it like Dennis was an innocent servant girl who’d been cleaning the prince’s room, and then Tommy had entered and, on a whim, decided to seduce her. Why is that idea making me hard? Dennis wondered, flustered by his ever-stiffening cock.   
“I…” Dennis tried to speak, but Tommy had already slipped off Dennis’s shirt. No doubt his boots and leggings would be next.   
“You ok?” Tommy whispered, pausing and looking up. Dennis nodded, so Tommy continued. Finally he freed Dennis’s sex from its confines. “Mmm,” Tommy said, “You look hot and ready to me. But let’s be sure.” He kissed his own fingers and then rubbed the hand over Dennis’s twitching cock. Dennis gasped at the act, and at Tommy’s careful touches. After a few minutes, Tommy asked: “Now?”   
“Yes!” As Dennis finished undressing himself, Tommy set himself on the pile of hay. Soon, the only thing hiding the poet’s lithe body was the rich dark hair on his chest. He forgot all embarrassment when he saw that Tommy was on his hands and knees, spreading his legs and inviting Dennis to get on top of him from behind. Dennis was trembling as he tried to enter Tommy, so it took a moment for them to connect. He thought his anticipation would be the death of them both. When he was finally inside, closer to Tommy than he could ever be, it was so right: so warm and soft. God, he couldn’t let anything ruin this. He tried to be as gentle as possible despite his eagerness, and wrapped his arms around Tommy’s waist as he drew himself forward and back. “Tommy,” he whispered. “Oh, God.”   
“You can go faster,” Tommy laughed.  
“Should I?”   
“Yes, hard!” Tommy shouted. Dennis obeyed, thrusting harder and faster, supported by the rounded curve of Tommy’s ass. The heat of him was spreading through Dennis’s entire body.  
Tommy was also enjoying himself, rolling his hips slightly forward and letting Dennis take him. He sighed and said: “Pull my hair.”  
“Wha-what?” Dennis cried. He’d been so focused that sweat was dripping down his chest, onto Tommy’s back. “I could never hurt you.”   
“Just a tug. It feels really ah- good,” Tommy said excitedly as Dennis continued to pound into him. “Please!”   
Dennis got a tighter grip with one arm and used the other to take those blond locks in hand. He gave one sharp tug, and as he heard Tommy sigh in delight, Dennis could feel something in himself giving way. Tommy’s ardor was catching, and that sound tipped Dennis over the edge. Yes, he realized, it was happening now.  
“My angel!” Dennis cried as he felt himself shudder into ecstasy. Words left him and so did the outside world. Joy flooded his body and he held Tommy tightly, wanting the sensation to last. Even as the feeling faded, he smiled, grateful for the presence of his lover. He rested his head against Tommy’s shoulder.   
“Was it worth the wait?” Tommy asked flirtatiously.   
“Every moment,” Dennis whispered. “Thank you.”   
“I’m so glad,” Tommy replied, hugging him. “Let’s get some rest, ok?”   
The next morning, Dennis awoke, surprised and delighted to see Tommy curled up next to him in the hay. It hadn’t been a dream after all. “Thank you,” Dennis whispered, looking above him. It may not have been the right time to thank God, but he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.   
Tommy stirred to life and yawned loudly. He was exquisitely rumpled- still totally nude, long hair askew. “G’morning.”   
“Yes, it is.” Dennis gently kissed Tommy’s cheek. “Last night was so wonderful.”   
‘Yeah.” Tommy embraced Dennis, then pulled back and whispered darkly: “Damn, I loved hearing you scream.”   
Flushing, Dennis tried to compose an appropriate response, but they heard Chuck banging on the barn door- with John’s walking stick, most likely. “RISE AND SHINE, you two! It’s practice time, so ...whatever this is, it can wait.”  
During the day, they practiced the song countless times, until everyone was about as happy with it as they could be. Dennis was very exacting about what he wanted and kept asking for more, but since Tommy had written the song, most of the guidance came from him. Chuck was unflinching in his criticism, even toward himself: “Dennis, you’re too loud and drowning everyone out.” “John, it’s too slow.” “Dammit, start over. I’m still asleep, dunno what’s wrong with me.”   
James was still letting his facial expressions do the talking, but did take any notes that were given to him. Tommy frequently second-guessed most of his decisions, while trying to encourage everyone. John, without fail, just seemed happy to be playing the drums with his friends.


	11. ...now I wanna hold you, too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TREAD LIGHTLY, this chapter contains gratuitous smut AND the death/euthanization of a beloved pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want another sex scene so soon after the first, but I think I justified it (having moved several other chapters around)

In the late afternoon, with a few hours before the performance, Tommy and James had hidden themselves away in James’s bedroom. It was the smallest room in the little house with little in the way of furnishings, but it suited their needs just fine. James kept his (stolen) spyglass in there on a shelf with his journal. Long ago, Chuck had painted a sunburst and a half-moon on opposite walls of the room to reflect James’s interests and make him feel more at home. “Are you bored with me?” James whispered. He knew he sounded full of self-pity, but the thought had worried him in the past. They had agreed to keep things open in their relationship, but James had never wanted to be forgotten or discarded.

“You’re not jealous, lover? Don’t be.” Tommy said reassuringly. He put his arms around James’s neck and kissed him.

James replied with a smile and a tight squeeze. He felt a bit better. Tommy only used that endearment when they were alone together. “You’re right. He just… when he met you, he didn’t even try to see who you really were, he just assumed.”

“So he’s naive,” Tommy said in a forgiving way. “You assumed a few things when we met. So did I.”

“Yeah.” James paused thoughtfully, then asked: “But you liked him; I mean, he was good to you?”

“Yes. Very gentlemanly.”

James snort-laughed. “That must have been a change, after me.”

“And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” James smiled a little but was still clinging to him, so Tommy began rubbing James as if he were cold to soothe him. “Trust me.”

“That’s good, that he treated you right,” James said, breathing more steadily and leaning into Tommy’s touch.

“I’m not bored with you.”

‘Yeah…thanks.” James took Tommy onto his lap and laced his arms over him, holding him close from behind.

“What are you thinking?” Tommy asked, settling back into James’s arms. 

“I don’t know,” James said, agitated. “I got lucky running away once. I don’t think it’ll happen all over again.” James bit his lip in frustration. It had been a while since his survival skills were really tested. What chance did they have? But he and Tommy were finally alone together again, and he wanted to take some solace and happiness from that- whatever could be found in the moment. He took a deep breath and said:

“You’re doing great with this music.” 

‘Really?”

“Anyone can tell that’s what you were meant to be doing.”

“Thank you,” Tommy said, his voice softening and his body relaxing. They sat just enjoying each other’s company for a few moments, until Tommy said, warily: “Did you really like seeing me dressed up?”

James nodded. “You know I did. But did you like it, for real?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said shyly. “It felt nice, they said I looked great.”

“You did.”

“Maybe next time, I’d do it just for the hell of it,” Tommy said. 

“Hey, if you want,” James answered, smiling at him. 

“Thanks,” Tommy said, kissing James gently on the lips. “I really owe you one, for putting up with me all this time.”

“Nah,” James said. He began thinking back to how the two of them had first met, and how their relationship began. Tommy could be unpredictable, he could drive James crazy in the best and worst way, but he’d never been someone to ‘put up with.’

____________________________________________________________________________________________

James didn’t tell Tommy until sometime after they had gotten to know each other, but he did hang around to watch Tommy address the crowd at his 18thbirthday party. He was wondering if Tommy had really exaggerated about his bad public speaking, since he was admired by so many women- and James was still working out if he should pursue his own feelings about the prince. As he did his best to stand on the perimeter of the festival, looking inconspicuous, James saw a royal herald take the large main stage in the center of the event. “Good people, your attention please,” the herald said in a booming voice. “All hail their royal majesties, King Jonathan XI and Queen Corrine!” The crowd applauded, and the king and queen took the stage, entering from the tent as the other heralds sounded their trumpets. James couldn’t make out the royal couple’s faces too well, but they seemed more or less what he expected. Then the herald cried: “And now, we present our guest of honor, your future king: Prince Thomas!” More applause sounded. Tommy, instead of taking the stage from the tent, moved through the crowd. A whole flock of girls and young women were cheering and calling out to him. The prince smiled, clasped their proffered hands- he even took a flower someone offered him, and tossed it to a young girl standing nearby. The girl let out an ecstatic scream. The king walked forward and said sharply: “My people, we thank you. And now my son will _take the stage,_ and show us just how grateful he is to you.”

The crowd parted and Tommy, with halting steps, walked up to the stage and faced the crowd. He still looked flawless; women were still gazing lovingly at him. But he opened his mouth and all that came out was: “Um.” There was a pause. James could see the prince’s shoulders move up and down, as if he were gasping for air, and he tried again. Tommy barely moved, and his voice was flat and lifeless as he said: “Thank you all for coming. I…best wishes, I hope you enjoy yourselves. Thank you.” He hurried back to stand next to his parents, and the thief took his leave. Even as he heard the young girls’ cheering in the distance, James couldn’t believe that awkward boy was the same person he’d kissed moments ago. Clearly, the prince was going to be hard to figure out.

He did not expect Tommy to actually come meet him in the woods. James realized there had been a physical attraction between the two of them, and the flirtation had led to a kiss, but he tried to be realistic. He’d been in other encounters like that which had led nowhere, and after all, Tommy’s social position could not be ignored. “What would someone like him ever want with me?” James asked aloud as he waited for the prince. His horse, Perseus, whinnied a little, and James just laughed and patted his neck. “It’s ok, buddy.” _Tommy bombs at public speaking, but he can still get anyone he likes,_ James thought. But not only did the prince show up, he came hoping to lure James out. Tommy had sent a lady-in waiting to ride through the woods on her horse, and circle around back to the castle. But she was not one of Tommy’s many lovers - she was fifty years old, and one of his mother’s attendants. He had asked her to dress in very simple clothing and gave her a purse of gold coins to carry. The prince had promised she could keep the gold, if she agreed not to tell his parents about the adventure. Tommy hung back in the shadows to see if James would attack an older woman, riding by herself. He didn’t take the bait, leaving Tommy pleasantly surprised. When he heard James leaving, he ran out to surprise him in turn. The thief jumped back in alarm.

“What the hell was that for?” James cried. Tommy explained his little trick, which James did not appreciate- he repeated the question.

“I wanted to learn more about you,” Tommy said. He smiled. “So, you don’t just act nice when you’re told to- you wouldn’t jump a lady who could be your mom. Cute.”

James heaved an annoyed sigh. “Stop calling me cute. Are you asking to join up with me again?” He desperately wanted to mention the kiss, but it didn’t feel right- he felt disoriented. _I don’t know what I was expecting other than this stupid trick,_ he thought bitterly _. For him to ride up and kiss my hand? Get a grip, James, he’s toying with you_ , he told himself. _I should tell him how he choked up there, talking to the crowd- no, I can’t. I’m not that awful; besides, he must already know._ “Do you get that bored, living the good life? If this is how you spend your free time, I don’t know if you’re cut out to be king.”

“You sound like my dad,” Tommy said, laughing. “Did you really not know I was behind this? You didn’t hope I’d show up?”

“I thought you stood me up,” James whispered.

“And I thought,” Tommy said, looking more serious, “That you were gonna try for another kiss. Maybe I should?” He shut his eyes and moved in for the kiss. James, hardly believing it, clasped at the prince’s shoulders and kissed his soft, ardent mouth.

They fell into kissing, touching, and exploring as if they were young teenagers. Soon, they were meeting in the woods at night to rut like animals. Cliches like this can add lacquer to a relationship, but they can’t cover up the truth. Their bond would soon be put to the test.

One night, they were looking up at the stars as they held one another. “The beginning of September? That’s yours right there,” James said. He pointed to the constellation Virgo as he kept one arm around his lover’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah,” Tommy said. “That’s right. How do you know all this? They didn’t teach you that stuff in church…”

“I found a bunch of stories about constellations in a book I swiped,” James said. “I try to read at least a little bit of every one I find- some I sell, but I really like that one, so I kept it.”

“It’s at home?” James nodded. “Do your brothers read?”

“John does sometimes; Chuck likes to, but he’s always busy. He gets antsy sitting still, unless he’s napping,” James said, and Tommy nodded. “Hey, are you still working on that song you wrote? It’s getting late, but if you have something I want to hear it.”

Tommy flushed with pride. “Not yet. You…you really think it was good? I keep feeling like I’m bugging you.”

“You have a great voice,” James said, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “And I absolutely think you should write more songs.”

“I didn’t bring my mandolin,” Tommy said. “I should be getting back, but I’ll bring it next time. Two days?” James nodded and went to see Tommy off. “Goodnight, James,” Tommy said, climbing onto the back of his horse, Montresor.

“Tommy,” James said suddenly, “I know I can’t meet your family, but would you like to meet mine?”

Tommy gave a smile wider and brighter than James had ever seen. Leaning down, he also gave him a parting kiss, this time on the lips. “I’d love to. You talk about them all the time, so I feel like I know them. But they can’t…”

“Yeah, I know,” James muttered. “I should really prepare them ahead of time- but they won’t tell anyone, they’re good guys. The best.”

“I trust you,” Tommy said. He nodded gently and said: “See you soon.” He was out of sight before James could react.

‘I guess that’s it. Let’s go, ok?” James whispered to Perseus. He mounted his horse and began his ride home. But James was distracted and went through a thicker part of the woods, where his horse stumbled- and James heard a crack as he fell to the ground. Once he had risen and realized he was more or less all right, he immediately checked on Perseus. It was clear that the animal’s leg was broken.

“Oh god,” James cried. He looked around, seeing only darkness and woods. He wished he was at home and his brothers were nearby to help him focus on what had to be done. All he could think of at that moment was to cradle his friend’s head. “Perseus, no,” he whispered, stroking the animal’s nose. He went to shout Tommy’s name, but stopped. No one could know they were out here together, so he yelled ‘help’ and hoped Tommy would recognize his voice. After several times- the last time, his throat started to hurt- he heard a faint reply:

“I’m coming!” In a few moments, Tommy came riding up. He looked relieved that James was all right, but then saw the horse and its twisted leg. “Oh, no,” he said. Dismounting as quickly as he could, he went over to James. Dropping down on one knee, he touched his lover’s shoulder. “Broken?” Tommy asked.

James hugged Perseus’s neck, seemingly forgetting Tommy was there, until he looked over and whispered: “I don’t know what to do. He’s not gonna make it.” There were already tears in his eyes.

‘This is tough,” Tommy said softly, “But I’m here. It’s happened to me. We’re…gonna find some way to get through this.”

“He’s my friend,” James said helplessly. His voice was not just cracking, but splintering. “I know it’s better to be quick- I-I don’t want him to hurt!” Perseus and James had been together for eight years, and James had pulled some pretty crafty tricks in order to adopt him. How could he make his friend suffer, after all that? “I can’t use my knife,” he whispered, tears streaking his face.

“No, of course not,” Tommy agreed. James looked over at him and the prince silently offered James his hand. He took it and squeezed it, then hurriedly embraced Tommy. It was brief; he did not want Perseus to be alone.

“I won’t use my sword. But you know I also have my crossbow with me,” Tommy began slowly. “For protection.”

“You think that would work?” James said warily. “It won’t last too long?”

“Not if I do it in the right place, by his eyes,” Tommy said, the resolve in his soft voice tightening a little. “When I had to put my horse to sleep, a couple years ago….we used poison. But it’s hard to tell what’s growing out here; we wouldn’t be able to recreate what I had at home. I think the crossbow might be the only thing we can do, other than leaving him here.”

“We’re not gonna leave him!” James shouted. The horse groaned, and James went back to soothing his friend, whispering an apology and trying to keep himself together.

“You hold him still,” Tommy said, looking into James’s eyes and nodding. “I’ll do my very best for him. I promise.”

“Quickly?” James whispered. His eyes were fearful, not for himself, but for his friend.

“Quick as I can,” Tommy said. James lightly kissed Tommy, then went back to soothing the horse. Perseus was whimpering and shuddering, and seemed to be caught between sleep and wakefulness. James petted the horse’s brown coat, ignoring Tommy as he returned with his loaded crossbow. Tommy had also moved Montresor and tied him up out of sight, so the other horse would not see Perseus being put down.

“It’s all right,” James whispered to his horse. “You can let go. Just…just close your eyes.”

“I’m ready,” Tommy said softly. James didn’t look over at him, but nodded as he saw the horse’s eyes close.

“Now,” James said, as if he were bracing himself for a blow. He held the animal’s neck and whispered, “Good boy.” The horse tensed, and James felt that Tommy had fired. His friend Perseus had gone still, and had left him. James made sure both of the horse’s eyes were shut and then, for the last time, he hugged Perseus. As soon as he took his arms away, he slumped forward, kneeling on the ground. The groan he let out was not just a way to grieve, but a catharsis. Now Tommy wrapped his arms around James, drawing him close to comfort him.

“Just do what you have to do,” he whispered to the thief.

“God, I…I already miss him,” James gasped.

“He loved you,” Tommy said, and rested James’s on his shoulder. “He’s at peace now.”

“Yeah. And thank you…” James said in a choked voice. “You did good- you were brave.”

“You too,” Tommy insisted. “Let’s get you home.” That was the night Tommy met James’s brothers, explaining what happened in the woods. Then the two lovers slept side by side in James’s bed and the next day, the four of them worked to bury the horse. When it was finally over, Tommy prepared to head back home. He had been trying to make James laugh with the alibi he was going to spin for his parents, but James stopped him from talking further. He leaned down and kissed Tommy. It was a slow, innocent kiss, one that wanted to be a vow. James whispered: “You were good to him. Thank you…I love you.” That was the very first time either one of them had said the words, several months after their first meeting.

Another month passed after this, and Tommy had a fitting reply to James’s confession.

James woke to find that a message had come to the house- the owner of the local livery stable wanted to see him. There was a gift waiting for James: Antares, already saddled and shod. James had been speechless, for there was no need to ask who this gift could possibly be from. Antares was much finer than any of the other horses in the stable. But the livery owner had said he’d brought the horse here at great personal risk and was not allowed to do anything other than hand the horse off, or reveal who the gift was from. The next time he saw Tommy, James confessed with tears in his eyes that he wanted to give him something in return.

Tommy wouldn’t hear of it, saying: “He definitely can’t replace your friend, but I know you’re lonely. I would never want you to be lonely- not after what you’ve done for me. I never had anyone else I could talk like this with, who’s shared what we’ve shared. I guess what I’m saying is…I love you too.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

And now here they were, close to the performance and to departing their home. Although it seemed the time for talk had passed.

"You ok?" James whispered.

"Yeah. I'm good," said Tommy.

“I need you, right now.” James’s voice turned rough and ragged on the last word, as it always did when he was aroused. James was so overwhelmed by this man. If Chuck, for example, had asked him to describe his feelings for Tommy, James wouldn’t have been able to get the words out.

“I missed you,” Tommy whispered. “Out in the woods, I couldn’t stop thinking about sleeping in your arms…”

Suddenly, James pulled Tommy’s hair to the side and bit down on his prince’s shoulder. The younger man’s body tensed and Tommy let out a breathy little coo. The sound shot right through James’s body and spurred him on. Ardently, he began kissing and nipping at Tommy’s neck, then laid him down onto his back and climbed on top of him. He began claiming him, thrusting his tongue deep in Tommy’s mouth. Once he had helped Tommy off with his shirt, he fell to ravaging the prince’s bare torso with his mouth. After several intense minutes it became too much, and James had to get up and remove his own clothing. He paused to watch his lover.

Tommy had fully undressed and was reclining on the bed. He was adorned with bite marks from his neck to his waist- even on his back. They were as vivid as henna patterns on the hands of a young bride. Tommy gently prodded a red mark at his shoulder. He smiled to himself at the familiar, jagged lines of James’s slightly crooked teeth.

After taking in Tommy’s marked body, the highwayman wanted to devour his prince all over again. Now nude, he leaned down over Tommy. He ran his tongue down the clean lines of Tommy’s hipbones; first the left and then the right, making his lover shudder.

Tommy was intoxicated with the feeling and sight of James pleasuring him. Everything about his lover was so achingly sensual- James’s rough mouth; his long, flowing hair; even the way he walked, strutting as if he were the most desirable creature on earth.

James’s movements had slowed. His thumb brushed gently over the line of Tommy’s pouting mouth.

“I know what you want,” Tommy breathed, sitting up and gazing rapturously at his lover.

“Suck,” James said, his lip curling into that familiar smirk.

They both took special pleasure in this. They got up from the bed, and Tommy went down on his knees to take James’s sex into his mouth. He strove to do it right- keeping his lips pursed tight and allowing the pretty hollows of his cheeks to show, taking James as deeply as he could. In Tommy’s eyes, James looked like a god- his hair and beard glinting like gold, standing proud above him on deliciously long legs. He felt James hardening as he surrendered his mouth. Tommy paused and let his lips wander to leave airy kisses on those legs, little tributes.

“I’m so fucking hard… I want to be inside you,” James said. He grabbed Tommy’s shoulders. “And I wanna- see your face.”

“Yes,” Tommy breathed. He went back to the bed and again lay down on his back, then opened his legs to James. James kept a little bottle of oil in the chest beside his bed, and he took it out to pour some on his fingers. He ran his fingers over his own cock, then snaked two long fingers into the opening between Tommy’s legs.

“I-I think I’m ready,” Tommy said a few moments later, writhing in pleasure. James withdrew his fingers and smiled. He knelt before Tommy, rocked his hips forward and gave a wicked thrust into his lover. Soon James was fully immersed, reveling in the tightness and heat that surrounded him. But he remembered to move in a way that ensured Tommy would keep feeling the same pleasure he’d had from his fingers. “Tommy…where do you want it?”

“On my chest.”

 _Fuck, that’s so hot_ , James thought. _Better make it good._ His thrusts were punishingly, his voice was raspy, but he held Tommy with tenderness. Through every moment they were joined together, their eyes met. “I’d fucking die for you,” James whispered, feeling himself draw closer to climax.

“Just come for me,” Tommy murmured.

James hurriedly withdrew, then ran his hands over himself. He cried out wordlessly as he came, the pleasure burning so deep inside him that it almost turned into pain. His desire spurted over his lover’s chest, running in rivulets down Tommy’s firm, tan body. “Oh, love,” James whispered, looking at what he’d done and feeling another shiver of pleasure overtake him. He planted a kiss on Tommy’s forehead, then helped him clean up.

“Tired?” Tommy said at last. As if he were in his luxurious chambers at home, he spread himself out on the bed: his hands were folded behind his head to prop himself up, hair cascading down his shoulders. One leg indolently swung over the bed’s side, back and forth, tempting James. _I could reach out and grab his leg, get on top of him again- he doesn’t even have to do anything,_ James thought, _and he’s still driving me crazy, right after I came._

James knew Tommy had not yet finished, and he knew Tommy liked to be played with a little before the act was completed. “Hope you’re not tired. I’m going to spank you senseless,” James said in a low voice. “You won’t be able to ride for a week.”

“Is that a promise?” Tommy didn’t even have time to wink before James rushed forward and picked him up. He roughly sat down on the bed, carrying Tommy, then put him over his knee. James’s heavy hand swept through the air, his wrist flicked and he came down onto Tommy’s pert little ass- hard, with two loud slaps in quick succession. “Ahh!” Tommy cried. His body writhed as if he’d been hit by lightning. “Again,” he begged.

“How’d ya like this?” James smacked him three more times as Tommy cried louder and louder. The hand left yet another red mark that didn’t quite fade.

Twitching with energy, Tommy rose from the bed and shook out his body. “Oh, you’re good.” Then he pounced on top of James’s kneeling body. “But you lied, I’m ready to ride you.” He began grinding against James and felt his lover’s heavy breathing, inhaled the scent that was uniquely his. How Tommy longed to join his body to the one so close to him…

“Fuck my ass,” James whispered.

“Bend over,” Tommy said, his voice heavy with lust. James did, spreading his legs. Then Tommy readied James to be entered: he worked a oiled finger into James’s hole, and tried to hit the spot inside that made his lover moan helplessly and go limp. “Wanna make you feel good,” he said, searching with his fingertip. “Tell me when.”

“Ahh!” James moaned, rolling his shoulders back. After coming several minutes before, he felt like he would pass out, but the stimulation was still so good. “Fuck, there. Yes.” This continued a few moments more, until James was slick and ready for him.

Tommy’s hands eagerly grasped James’s ass on both sides and he entered him. “Gorgeous,” Tommy whispered, kneading the swell of flesh against his cock. “So soft and full...” 

“That’s it- come inside me,” James panted, his back arching.

“Anything you want,” Tommy purred. “Anything for you.” He suddenly felt himself being overtaken, and he let out a sweet cry as the feeling coursed through him. Desire- hot, white, his own- marked his lover from within, and James shuddered as he felt Tommy pouring between his legs. He still felt as if they truly belonged to one another, regardless of whoever else had touched them. After they cleaned up, they rested in one another’s arms- warm and content. James was simply happy to feel Tommy’s heartbeat so close to his own.

“I love you, y’ know,” James whispered.

“I love you too,” Tommy replied. “Let’s get ready for that gig.”


	12. The Big Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band finally performs.

After a very restless day, the party left for their performance. Tommy rode on Sahir while wearing John’s cloak, with the hood pulled up over his face. ‘You’re sure I look ok?”

“Just an anonymous girl,” James assured him.

“A country girl,” Chuck added. “Remember, you don’t know how to ride sidesaddle.”

Chuck’s large instrument was tied to the saddle, in back of where Tommy sat- the other men carried their instruments. His friends walked beside him to discourage anyone who might be looking at the horse’s rider a little too closely. When they arrived at the tavern, they tied up Sahir outside, and took the large viol off the horse’s back. As the five friends entered the Golden Stag, there was celebration in the air. The place seemed friendlier than the previous night. John found yet another group of townsfolk who knew him, and began calling out for him to come sit and talk with them. He said he’d be right back, and the others wondered how it was that John was able to make friends so easily. Dennis was nervously making sure his hair and clothes were neat enough for the scrutiny of such a large crowd. A rather drunk, flirtatious gentleman offered to remove Tommy’s cloak for ‘her,’ and James scared the man off. Tommy removed the cloak himself- after James stopped him from socking the man in the jaw. Now exposed, he sat at the bar and began strumming on his mandolin to busy his hands. It was the one thing that always calmed him down. Meanwhile, Chuck was nervously making sure the Sheriff didn’t catch sight of Tommy.

“There you are,” Vidya said. She smiled at James, who had returned from chasing off Tommy’s admirer. “You look nice, when you bother to comb your hair in front. Now, where is your friend?” Her eyebrows raised when she saw Tommy, who was so engaged in playing he hadn’t noticed her. She beckoned James to lean in and whisper to her. He prepared to come up with some explanation, but she stopped him:

"James, you could have just told me your friend was a female impersonator. I worked in places like back home, so I won’t tell the Sheriff. Unless I’m wrong-“

"Oh," James said laughing in relief, and wanting to avoid lying further. "Yeah...he's an impersonator. Not bad, for a beginner. Thanks for the stuff! It really came in handy.”

"You’re welcome, just leave it in the back. If he sings like he plays, you lot might really have something," she said. "Maybe not the type of thing you'd see at court, but something interesting. You know, there’s a gentleman here from Abbieannia, and he’s always looking for new talent.” She looked around. “Oh, there he is!”

There was a young man sitting himself down next to Tommy. His light brown face had a saturnine look to it, and he was all in white except for a bright green waistcoat. His hair was slightly longer than most of the other men’s in the bar, and he wore it in a little knot at the nape of his neck.

“I take it you are performing tonight?”

Tommy was so bewildered he stopped playing. Great, now someone was going to flirt with him? The stranger was cute enough, but it wouldn’t do to blow his cover, or create any confusion. “I am, yes,” Tommy whispered, trying to disguise his voice and also sound aloof.

“Nicely done. You must be a professional,” the young man said. “I hear they are starting a guild of their own, but it’s mostly underground, of course. They say in Japan, it’s a national art form.”

“I’m… really not following you,” said Tommy. No matter how he was dressed, he really didn’t want to be mistaken for a prostitute.

“I’m sorry- are you an actor?” the man said. “You know, a female impersonator.”

“Oh!” Tommy cried. He didn’t have much firsthand knowledge of that type of thing; it wasn’t the sort of thing you read about in _The Founding of the Borovnian Kingdom_ , or any of the ‘church-approved’ literature in his parents’ library. And none of ‘ _those_ types’ (as his parents would have called them) would have been entertaining at the castle. But what a relief, to be mistaken for one and not need to lie! “I’m just starting out,” he said, reasoning that it was true…enough.

“My name is Hector,” he said. “I own the Capital Theater in Abbieannia.” A tall, fine-boned woman walked up to Hector. She held two goblets of wine, and Hector took one for himself. “This is my partner Una, who runs the business end of things.”

“You’re smart to play that up,” Una said, gesturing to Tommy’s face. She wore a purple scarf tied around her head and had dark brown eyes that mirrored the color of her skin. “You really do look an awful lot like her. It might get you in trouble with the royal family, though.”

“Who?” Tommy hoped he sounded like he was playing coy, rather than being woefully ignorant.

“Lady Melisande, of course,” Una said. “That’s the exact shade of her royal presentation gown. Were you not near the capital last year? It was right after her engagement to Prince Thomas was announced.”

“That’s very kind of you.” _Oh, fuck,_ Tommy thought. “But my friends and I, we-”

“I’d like to meet your manager,” Una said. “There is a way you could make it work.”

“Chuck manages us,” Tommy said, eager to make his escape. He awkwardly grabbed Chuck, who had been shadowing him nearby, and shoved Chuck in front of Hector. “Don’t you, Chuck?” 

“Er, hello,” Chuck said. He really wanted to run off but had no reason to be rude to these people, who seemed pleasant enough.

“I have to say," Hector said, warmly shaking Chuck's hand, "I'm very impressed. You’re not afraid to be open-minded, to look past the royal family’s reactionary policies.”

"Well, the band found me," Chuck replied. 

“I’d love to see your group perform first, of course. Sit and watch with us? Can I buy you a drink?” Hector asked. Chuck was suddenly very interested in where this might be leading. But his thoughts were interrupted by Vidya, clapping her hands for attention.

She addressed the crowd in a loud but measured voice: “Everyone, it’s almost time for the show to begin. For those of you who are new here, wait in the back room before you’re called onstage. Please head out the door directly behind me and prepare to go on. The pot starts at twenty silver pieces.” The crowd applauded as the five friends and a few other performers gathered their things and prepared to head to the back room. This was a smaller room behind the stage, closed off with a curtain. This space was used for more intimate gatherings- or, as John summed it up: ‘a little under-the-table gambling, a little ‘wham, bam, let’s not tell your husband this, ma’am’.” Today it was buzzing with excitement from the acts waiting to go onstage. James stashed the bag of clothes in a corner as the band waited in the hall- there were too many people to fit in the little antechamber.

But onstage, excitement was slow to come. There were a few acts who performed decently at first, including a female harpist who had a devil of a time getting her instrument onstage (John and James helped her carry it inside) and several very old men playing strange woodwinds of their own design. Their music was so abstract no one could tell whether it was good or not.

“And now, introducing our next act,” Vidya said. “Karl, on vocals and guitar.” Karl was just the sort of pale, mopey-eyed figure Chuck had warned Dennis about. The bard was heading backstage when he realized with horror that Chuck was right: his own songs _did_ sound similar to Karl’s painfully earnest ‘tribute’ to his ex-girlfriend, Esperanza. Whoever she was, she had apparently taken Karl’s dog, life’s savings, and heart- but he still wanted her back. _Oh my god,_ Dennis thought, as he realized he would have to follow this singer. _Is that really who I ended up as? Who did I even want to be in the first place?_

“I just thought of something,” Chuck hissed as their turn drew nearer. “Did everyone notice Dennis sneaking around the other night? What if they’re watching the doors and Tommy can’t get out?”

“Well,” John said slowly, “the good news is, only one person got a real close look. The bad news is-“

“It was the Sheriff. And he’s already suspicious of us,” Chuck muttered. “Okay, we’re on in a few minutes. I need to play along with that cute guy so he thinks Tommy’s just another performer. But we can’t fool the Sheriff. You gotta get Glen out of here while we’re onstage, and we’re gonna be on in a minute. Go untie Glen’s horse so he has to go catch it: It’s brown and has a white diamond on its forehead.”

“Did you just call that guy cute?” John said knowingly. “Cheeky, bro.”

“Um,” Chuck said, “Let’s not get into that right now. We can’t get arrested before we have a chance to get that cash!” John nodded and stole outside once he made sure Glen was busy talking to Vidya. Karl had thankfully finished, and only a few copper pieces had been added to the tip pot with the house’s silver.

“Listen, baby,” Glen was saying to Vidya, “are you sure you haven’t heard from that sketchy guy who was in here the other day, the one no one could recognize? His story about the highwayman was a little too convenient.”

Vidya scowled. ‘ _Baby_? You really think lines like that are going to work on me? I’ve got work to do, Sheriff-“ 

“Sheriff!” a large, hairy man cried, gesturing outside where he’d just used the privy. “Your horse just ran off!” And so, Todd and Dorabella, along with the Sheriff, ran off in pursuit of the horse. Chuck and John winked at one another. 

After the comments from the two theater owners, Tommy’s worries from the previous day were back. _Can I pull it off?_ Tommy thought. There was a mirror on the wall in the back room- one of poor quality, just polished silver. Tommy looked, his eyes straining, and examined his disguise. He thought he could hear his mother say- _what are you doing? You’ve shamed us again! You think anyone will accept you as their king?_ But he shook his head, banishing her. Tommy stretched his neck and swept his long hair back behind his shoulders. Hands on hips, he still felt like himself, just as he had many years ago when pretending to be his cousin had just been a bit of fun. He could be dashing even in a long skirt- it was when he had to put on his crown, he felt like he was lying; like he would ruin everything. As long as his voice held out and no one mocked him, he knew he would get through the performance.

Vidya poked her head backstage. “It’s time.”

Tommy looked his reflection in the eye, feeling a little glow of pride. “Not bad, huh?” he whispered huskily.

“Everyone, please welcome our final act….” Vidya looked over at James, not sure how to refer to the group.

“The Fifth Circle,” James announced.

“Hey, that’s not a bad name,” Dennis whispered.

“Yeah, and I all I did was count us,” James said. 

Vidya gestured to Tommy. “That is a wonderful impersonation of Lady Melisande,” The crowd applauded. However, everyone was looking expectantly at Tommy, who seemed all too aware of the audience and what they were saying: “Might be the real thing;” “No, that’s a man. More like a boy;” “Maybe she’ll take something off;” and similar things.

 _They’re guessing,_ Tommy thought. _If I just….it really would be the easiest way. After all, the guys didn’t believe me at all when I told them._ He saw Karl standing in the audience, and remembered how his act had gone horribly. Prince Thomas, addressing a crowd, wasn’t supposed to make jokes. _But_ , he thought, _as an entertainer, why not?_ He tried to disguise his voice and sound breathier:“I don’t know how else we were gonna follow Karl!” Tommy said, gesturing to him. The crowd laughed and clapped, although Karl looked rather put out. Tommy realized the crowd liked him, and he was even more encouraged when he saw James smiling at him. “Besides, I think I look pretty good!” he added. There was some good-natured laughter and applause, and then Chuck, worried Glen would return, gestured for everyone to start playing.John laid down a beat on his tabor and Chuck joined in.

Tommy began playing his mandolin, just as he had before. He willed himself to just be part of the music. It was still his song, his words, and nothing anyone thought or said could take that away from him. John’s drumming was calm and steady, and Tommy could feel his heart slowing to keep pace with it. _Good old John_ , Tommy thought. He took a breath and started to sing, hoping his voice didn’t give or otherwise show his uncertainty. As he got a little further into the song, he felt the room grow quieter. They were actually listening to the song and enjoying it, he realized. Tommy relaxed his arms a bit and his playing sounded less forced _._ He looked over and Dennis was staring right at him, his face lit up in a smile. Bewilderedbut happy, Tommy smiled right back.

Then things came to a head- it was the last verse of the song, and Dennis added his voice to Tommy’s as they’d rehearsed. It really did sound so much fuller and better this way. And, in front of all these people, much more alive. As Dennis sang with him, Tommy could feel the air vibrating, the music rising through his body. When they sang together, hitting every note and meaning every word that left their lips, it was as if everything came into clearer focus and colors became brighter. Everything felt more real and time was not slowing down or moving too quickly. It was moving exactly as it was supposed to; to the beat of a song.

There was a round of applause, and a few people even cheered.

‘Hear that?” John cried. “We’re a hit, guys!”

“Okay,” James said, sticking his hand out to shake Dennis’s. “We’re doing all right. Let’s hope we win.”

They were indeed a hit, and the tip pot was passed with silver clinking left and right. When it was full to the brim, Vidya announced: “It looks like we saved the best for last- tonight’s winners are the Fifth Circle! Congratulations to you all!”

In the midst of the cheers, John took the pot and went behind the stage to the antechamber to start divvying up the money. 

“That was fantastic!” Hector said, running up to Chuck. “I mean, it might not play in Abbieannia, but I’m sure I know someone who would love to book you.”

People were clamoring for the group to take a bow, but Glen burst through the door, and smoke was practically coming out of his ears. The other four members fled through the door behind the stage- Tommy to put on his cloak and get out, James to ready the horse, Dennis to play lookout, and Chuck to keep the entire enterprise from imploding. James tossed Tommy his share of the money and hastily kissed him goodbye. “It’s your half! Ride and don’t stop!” 

“I love you,” Tommy whispered. “Bye guys, and thank you. He pulled the cloak’s hood over his head and spurred the horse on.

“Well, we did it…” James said softly. “I wish I knew when I’d see him again.”

“He’ll be fine,” Dennis said. _I think I just watched the love of my life ride away_ , _with another man’s kiss on his lips. I am so screwed,_ he thought. He noticed Tommy’s ribbon had come undone- Dennis picked it up and tied it around his wrist for safekeeping. But there was a noise behind them, and their heads whipped back toward the pub. Everyone caught wind of the word ‘highwayman.’

“We are so screwed,” James muttered.


	13. Hilarity Sort of Ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dennis's actions and appearance here were written for the benefit of my friend 'Carmen', who had a huge crush on him when I first wrote this. His thrown-together disguise is a visual gag/reference to...well, search Youtube for "Styx Born for Adventure Live" and if he's got a frilly shirt on, it's the right video. What can I tell ya, my best friend liked it!

Moments after Tommy had made his daring escape, our heroes knew they had to act quickly. James was already heading home, but Chuck broke away from Hector and was now hiding in the antechamber behind the stage with John as they tried to gather up all the money they'd won. Dennis was like a cornered animal, hanging near his two friends and hoping no one would find him.

"Patrons…my fellow Borovnians…shut up,” Glen said in his most stentorian voice. “Can you point me in the direction of those two jackasses, John and Chuck? And that guy who was with them yesterday?” 

“What’d they do?” someone yelled angrily. “Who was that third guy?” someone else asked.

“They were just onstage,” Vidya said. “But Sheriff, what do you want with them?”

“According to Big Louie here,” Todd said, gesturing to the large man who’d been in the privy, “someone matching a description for BOTH of ‘em, more or less, tampered with the Sheriff’s horse.”

“As for the third person, we don’t have a lock on his description,” Dorabella said, struggling to be heard over the gossip and confusion of the barroom. “But his story didn’t hold up, even if John’s friends swore that he’d never lie.”

“John speaks the truth! He said he’d get the Pope to pray for me,” an elderly man said emphatically. “And eight days after he said he’d write that letter, my cough was gone!”

“Well…that’s nice,” Dorabella said. “Is there anyone else who can-”

“I know he’s here!” Glen cried. “That guy who John said was dead and came back to life- he’s working with the highwayman to undermine me. It must have been a plot between them, to steal my horse. When I find the thief and those two squatters, they’re gonna pay!”

“I saw them!” Karl cried. “I know exactly the guys you mean! Them and that stupid… _female_ they were with, they made me look like a fool!” 

“Female, huh?” Todd said, getting out some parchment to take a police report. “What’d she look like?”

“I heard ‘female impersonator’,” Vidya said in confusion- everyone started loudly arguing over her, and the tavern keeper sighed in frustration.

Hidden by the stage door, the band had seen and heard this and knew they had to act quickly. “You guys go,” Dennis said. “John has the money now. I think I have a way to throw the cops off our trail. You did the same for me.”

“What do you mean?” John said, placing the big bag of money between his feet for safekeeping. “He’s been busting our asses for years! I’m not sure I can talk us out of this one. We better make a run for it.” Evidently, he was taking no chances, because he was already putting on his cloak.

“Maybe I can. What if the Sheriff found the highwayman? That would make him forget all about you two.” Dennis said. He started going through the bag of clothes that James had left in the hallway. It was a crazy idea, he knew that. But he realized now that it might be a way to make up for how insufferable he’d been earlier. And he couldn’t help but inspired by Tommy’s disguise to don one of his own.

“Oh my god, _you?_ ” Chuck said dubiously. "No way. What are you doing?" He saw Dennis take a shirt out of the bag of clothing and exchange it for the one he was wearing. 

"I'm creating a distraction," Dennis hissed. Now he was taking Vidya's black kohl eyeliner and clumsily smearing it around his eyes. "They’re suspicious of me already, and I need to look different. So I’m the highwayman. I’d just be performing again.”

"Look, we just got lucky that people believed Tommy was a female impersonator," Chuck hissed. "That was a bizarre coincidence. Everybody just saw you onstage like a minute ago, so why would you admit you were..." Chuck had cocked his head like a dog, staring at Dennis. "What the hell are you _wearing_?" 

Dennis looked down at the frilly white blouse he had on, which was the first thing on in the pile of clothes that was not a dress. "This...this is a swordsman's shirt, right? I mean, it kinda looks like one. Like I'm a pirate." 

"If we hadn't just won that money, I’d send you back to whatever lunatic asylum you escaped from," Chuck said, shaking his head. 

Dennis looked in the little mirror, and frowned. _He’s right,_ _I look like a fucking idiot._

"Hey, that's not enough," John said, studying Dennis. "You still look like you. But don’t worry, I _am_ an expert in the art of disguise.”

“Will this involve a potato sack?” asked Dennis.

“Not currently.” He smeared a little more kohl on Dennis's face where his stubble was showing. "Everyone looks more evil with a beard!" Chuck glared at his brother. "Don't worry, Chuck , you're the exception." John stepped back, regarded Dennis, and then grabbed his friend by the hair, messing it up so that it looked wilder. John nodded, but looked uncertain. "You need something that's gonna bring it all together, but get people's attention. I know- take my cloak." Dennis did, and as he put it on, John looked through the pile one more time. He held up a locket on a black choker necklace. "Hey, one last thing. I know it sounds crazy, but put this on." 

"You know, you're as bad as he is," Chuck muttered.

"They'll remember the necklace, so they won't remember his _face_ ," John said. "He'll be a guy with wild hair, a dirty beard, a girl's shirt and a necklace. That could be anyone. And, crazy eyes, like the story I made up!”

Chuck smiled and shook his head."So you’re making twisted sense again." John had come through again, in his own odd way. Now even Chuck was getting into the spirit of things, and he noticed someone had left their rapier behind. "You need a weapon,” Chuck said. “Take this. If you wave it around, nobody'll recognize it...hopefully." 

“Start running,” Dennis said, preparing to head out through the curtain.

“We have to find James first,” John pointed out. “He might be holding someone off for us.”

‘Then get a head start!” With that, Dennis drew the curtain back and leapt onstage.

Vidya was banging on the side door with the handle of a broom, and trying to quiet the crowd. “People, can we have some order, please? Listen!”

The noise died down and everyone’s eyes snapped to the man onstage, who was dressed so outlandishly. Dennis cried out, stabbing the air with his sword: “Hands up, you fools!” _Oh man, that was really awful,_ he thought. _Well, I better bring out the moneymaker:_ "I am the highwayman. I did it all, and yet none of you have dared to challenge me!”

Everyone froze, staring at Dennis like they weren't sure whether to panic or laugh. Some people put their hands up, some looked like they were about to guffaw. But he'd wanted to get people's attention and it was working. Karl could have run by naked, and everyone would've kept their eyes on Dennis. 

“Why are you telling us this now?” Dorabella asked, blinking in confusion.

“….You’re under arrest,” Glen said, as if he’d just remembered he was the Sheriff.

"You're also not blending in very well," Todd observed. "Shouldn't you have a scarf over your face or something?" 

This sounded a little too familiar to Dennis, and he’d lost his patience with Glen a long time ago. “Now that I’ve proven what a useless coward your Sheriff is, why should I hide?”

Glen drew his sword. “ _Listen,_ you pantywaisted little…Todd, Bella, just cover me!”

Dennis actually put up his sword- it was the first time he’d ever even made an attempt at real combat. He had to think of something or he’d be dead in a minute- but the crowd did it for him. “Wait!” Karl yelled. “You’re that guy! You were on stage a minute ago.”

“I thought so! Hey, was the other singer Lady Melisande in disguise, or someone pretending to be her?” Dorabella demanded.

A murmur ran through the crowd at this, with someone saying: “I thought that was a guy.”

Dennis started to explain, but Glen thrust his sword forward. Fortunately, Dorabella blocked him, saying: “We don’t have probable cause, Glen.” Glen looked disappointed, but let Dennis continue.

Dennis tried to laugh scornfully, the way a gentleman would, but his nerves made the attempt sound shrill and manic. “John’s right,” said a girl Dennis recognized from the night before. “This guy is crazy.”

________________________________________________

Chuck and John had stolen a couple of horses in the melee, and were now riding down a back road. They hadn’t gone far when they saw James, riding a very stubborn donkey and carrying their instruments. “Guys!” James said. “What’s going on?” 

“Dennis is trying to let us escape,” John said, shifting to let the bag of money rest on the saddle. “But I don’t know, I don’t think he’s gonna pull it off.”

“What kind of plan could _he_ come up with?”

“He’s uh, pretending he’s you,” Chuck replied. “The highwayman.”

“He WHAT? Aw….well, at least we got to be horse thieves,” James sighed. “We better go back and get him. He’s a dead man walking.” 

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Dennis was starting to suspect the same thing, which is an easy leap to make when a cop waves a sword at you.

_Win the crowd over_ , he told himself. _What would John say, what did he say yesterday?_ “I came here to hide in plain sight. To expose you for the deluded fool you really are, Sheriff!” Several people in the crowd did laugh; one even said: “Go get him, Sheriff, what’re you waiting for?”

“Todd, get our crossbows,” Glen snarled.

“I don’t have them. Remember, you can’t carry one in a public house-“

“Your sword!” Glen said, pointing to the one that hung at his side, identical to the one the Sheriff himself carried.

“We can’t just start stabbing him, because we didn’t know who the highwayman was until five minutes ago,” Todd said wearily. “I keep telling you, we have to _file a real warrant_ for arrest and we can’t officially charge this yahoo with anything just because he starts jumping around and yelling ‘come arrest me.’ Taunting is not, technically, a crime.” 

“Answer one question,” Vidya said, yelling over the crowd and whacking her broom against the edge of the bar. Everyone quieted, wanting to know what she would say: “Was that really Lady Melisande with you, or someone impersonating her? Is she working with you?” Their heads snapped back over to Dennis. Never had there been a more expectant crowd in the village of Madison.

Now, Dennis finally had the audience he always wanted, one that was hanging on his every word. He could even feel some people admiring his looks. Like most people who long to be noticed, Dennis was finding this all very heady. As the poet formed a reply, something took hold of him- it might have been his memories of the other night with Tommy, or the fact that he was taking on the role of James at the moment. He remembered Tommy’s ribbon, still tied to his wrist. He couldn’t reveal Tommy’s identity, of course. _How would James do this?_ Dennis thought. Then, he remembered how James had spoken about Vidya. So he walked forward very slowly, like he was going to force the crowd to wait for his response. He swung his hips a little bit, adding a little swagger to his walk. He lowered his eyes and his voice. “Do you mean my lover?” he said, with a very sly, seductive look. 

He took the ribbon off his wrist and undid it with a grand flourish, displaying it to the audience. They recognized it: some women let out excited little gasps- a few people whistled. _That’s new. Well…_ He tossed his head back, kissed the ribbon and threw it to the crowd. The crowd cheered, then several women- along with a few of the more bold men in the room- ran forward and began fighting to pick up the ribbon. Dorabella stumbled, while Todd yelled at Glen not to charge forward with his sword until all the civilians had cleared away.

Outside, Dennis’s comrades had seen the entire display through the window. No one from the tavern had noticed them lurking around, because Dennis’s reveal had left everyone slack-jawed.

“Oh dear God,” Chuck muttered, shaking his head. “He’s getting off on this.”

“He’ll be worse than ever,” John agreed. “But he did hook ‘em, that’s for sure.”

“Holy shit,” James muttered. “Is that the same guy we found in the woods?”

The Sheriff was equally emotional. “That’s evidence!” Glen screamed, pointing at the ribbon. “We can get him for kidnapping now!”

But Dennis felt something different, surging through his body like strong drink- in this moment, he was everything he had ever wanted to be. In his mind, he wasn’t just writing an epic, he had become one. And somehow, his belief was intoxicating the crowd too. _If I stop and think too hard about this,_ he realized with horror, _I might never be able to do it again._ Then he realized : _I have no idea how to get out of here-_ _Wait a second, aren’t I wearing a woman’s shirt? No, don’t think too hard. If Tommy could pull this off in a dress…_

In every book he’d ever read, in ever play he’d ever seen, characters like his had to make some sort of daring escape- like jumping out of a window, onto a waiting stallion. He had no stallion and they were on the ground floor; even if he had a hanging rope to swing on, he had nowhere to swing. He could cut down the chandelier and run- but that would fall on someone or start a fire, and the last thing he wanted was to actually harm anyone. 

Besides, if he did cut the chandelier, Glen would probably book him for destruction of public property on top of the many, many crimes he had just confessed to. A woman had picked up the ribbon he’d dropped, and she and the Sheriff were fighting over it- meanwhile, Dorabella was attempting to charge the stage and arrest Dennis.

“Hands up!” she said, waving her sword at him. “Todd, cover me!” _Oh, shit, two against one,_ he thought. Todd was not far behind. There was a window behind the bar. If only he could smash it, but first he had to get onto the bar. Glen, below, had recovered the ribbon, and his back was to Dennis. _Wait a minute,_ he thought. _This might be crazy, but…_ Dennis raised the rapier up over his head, and dove off the stage. Glen was yelling at the woman he’d fought with for the ribbon, accusing her of ‘evidence tampering’. So he didn’t see Dennis rush him, and grab him from behind. Dennis held the rapier right at the Sheriff’s neck. Dorabella stopped abruptly, not wanting Dennis to stab Glen, which caused her to bump into Todd. Todd fell to the floor in a heap. As the crowd reacted in shock, Glen panicked. 

“Nobody move, or he gets it!” Dennis cried, hoping he sounded imposing rather than desperate. Dorabella had collected herself and was going towards him, but Glen shrieked:

“What do you want? You want _her? ”_ he said, pointing to his female deputy. “Take her, she’s not my girlfriend!” 

“Glen, you pig!” Dorabella shot back. Everyone was so focused on this scene that they didn’t see three faces crowding over by the window near the bar. With both doors blocked, the three figures had a clear shot through the window.

Clutching his hostage, Dennis began dragging Glen over to the bar, while Todd and Dorabella looked knuckled down for a standoff. “I was right about you, Sheriff,” the poet said scornfully. “Nothing but a coward.” He looked over at Dorabella and raised his voice: “You are indeed beautiful, but I wanted to expose him- not claim you like a piece of property.” Several women giggled and sighed at this remark.

“Don’t do me any favors!” Dorabella cried in disbelief. “John said you were checking me out. Sounds like you’re a pig, too.”

“Are you wearing my necklace?” Vidya said, frowning at Dennis. “Do you always wear a cloak when you attack people because you steal their clothes?”

“Look, what _do_ you want?” Todd asked. “Let him go, drop the sword.”

“I want you to let me leave, and do not follow me!” Dennis cried.

“Nothing doing,” Todd said.

“Very well. I’ll let him go.” He backed Glen up, in front of the big keg of beer that was sitting on the bar. Dennis then roughly shoved Glen over toward where Todd was standing. Todd dropped his sword to catch Glen, and Dorabella ended up thrusting her sword forward. Dennis ducked out of the way just in time, and she stuck her sword into the keg of beer. Beer spilled onto the floor, making the patrons shriek, and Dorabella muttered a few curses as she tried to pull her sword out from the oaken barrel. Dennis leapt onto the bar and saw that not only had the window been broken, John had removed the broken glass with a stout tree branch, and was extending the branch to help him. _C’mon,_ John was mouthing. All that was left was for Dennis to lift his sword above his head, address the crowd and make his dramatic exit: “Live by the sword, til the end!” he cried, holding his weapon proudly.

“Then get back here and fight me!” Dorabella called.

He leapt out and grabbed the branch, and John pulled forward. He was soon out of sight- because he fell forward, right on his face. Chuck and John helped him up and they made tracks as fast as they could, back to the horses. James was waiting nearby, on his donkey.

“I saw you back there…you drunk?” James asked.

“I wish,” Dennis muttered. “Then I’d be sure I could pull this off again.”

“Hey, it worked,” James said, sounding somewhere between amazement and disgust. Patrons were streaming out of the tavern, calling that their mounts had been stolen. James patted the donkey’s back, telling Dennis: “Get on behind me. I think Ivor here can handle it.” Dennis climbed on, doing his best to ignore the shouts and the sounds of people mounting their horses in the distance. The outlaws, for that was essentially what they now were, knew they couldn’t avoid an attack for long.

“You stole my horse!” a woman cried, pointing at John.

John said: "I'll return the favor and hold 'em off. You guys get going." 

"John, no! What are you, insane?" Chuck warned. But it was too late- John got off the horse and started running back to the tavern, as if he had been running for his life. He burst in through the door and ran to find the authorities, ready to sabotage them.

"Sheriff," he panted. But he couldn’t see Glen, just Todd and Dorabella. "Deputies- the highwayman just told me where he was headed. I've been working with him. I'm turning myself in." 

‘I thought that was you, over by the window,” Todd said.

"Is that why you were talking about him, making up that cock and bull story?” Dorabella demanded. “I figured you two were friends!" 

"Not anymore," John said hurriedly. "I want to help you. To expose him." 

"Why?" Todd asked.

"Well," John whispered, "I’m guilty about all the stuff we’ve done, and…Dorabella, I heard what Glen said about you, and I felt really bad-"

"I can take care of myself," Dorabella said in a huff, but she soon dragged John over to a corner of the room did add: "To be honest, John, we do need help in this investigation- Glen barely listens to Todd, and he never listens to me. How about you join up with me and Todd instead?"   
"Sure- wait, what do you mean, he never listens to you?" 

She sighed. "He says I'm 'okay' in a fight but that I should be 'taking care of the team'. What a joke. Sometimes I think I got this job because he liked the way I looked." 

"You're leading your own investigation," John assured her. "Glen barely does anything by himself! You got this." 

She looked a little more kindly at him and said: “That’s nice of you, John. Sit down and you can tell me everything. Todd, go ask anyone else if they have any leads on what that guy might be up to.”

Soon, John was finally talking with the prettiest girl in town, just the two of them- and he was trying desperately not to let his guilty conscience show.

“You mean you’re a turncoat?” Dorabella said, intrigued. “But why would you sell out your own partner?”

John was torn. He didn’t want any harm to come to his friends, but he did feel bad about lying to Dorabella- not just because he was attracted to her, but because he’d never seen her abuse her authority or treat anyone unfairly. Maybe he could just stretch the truth a little. “I’m hoping Glen will forget my family’s debt on the land, if I help you guys out,” John said.

“Oh, that’s so petty of him, to keep bugging you about that,” Dorabella agreed. “He already has more money than he knows what to do with. But what about your brothers? What do they have to do with the highwayman?”

“They’re not directly involved,” John replied. “Let’s not drag them into this.”

“I say we head over to your place, and shake that beehive open!” Glen said, interrupting John. “We’ll nab ‘em when they least expect it.”

“They’re not at home,” John said quickly. “He was taking them to his stronghold in the woods, where he hides all his stuff. He never let me see it, just James. Chuck and I were supposed to just hand the loot over to him and the highwayman. I have no idea where they are.”

“Damn,” Todd said, frowning a little. “I always thought you were hiding something with all your stories, John. I guess I didn’t realize how in over your head you really were.”

“Um, yeah,” John said.


	14. The Bonds of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's hot on Tommy's trail, and wait'll you see who. Backstory for JY, Chuck and John.

Meanwhile, the knight leading the search for Prince Thomas was getting frustrated. The search party had set up a makeshift tent in the woods, and they felt certain that the prince was nearby- all his known haunts throughout the kingdom had turned up nothing, so they realized he might have stuck closer to home but stayed isolated. _Surely the prince couldn’t be that good at blending in, given his lack of experience,_ the knight mused. _Unless I’m totally wrong, and he’s halfway across the sea by now. But he didn’t bring his travel papers..._ There were books and maps strewn about the tent, all pertaining to the neighboring kingdoms and villages. Word had already been sent to the neighboring kingdoms of Voluminia and Lethe, across the sea. Other riders were on their way to Calverhine, over the far mountains. So far, nothing had turned up. The knight looked up: the second-in command had arrived, shaking out her long dark hair and wiping her brow. “Melisande,” the lieutenant panted, “I’ve got word from the village. You’ve been spotted there.”

Melisande looked up from her maps and books and cast down her magnifying glass. Her armor was making her much too warm on a day like this one, and she fanned her face with some of the papers she’d been looking at. “In Madison? Adair, you were so sure no one followed us here.”

“You’re damn right I was,” her lieutenant panted, casting her sword down. She laid on a sleeping mat, then slowly sat up. As she talked, she removed her heavy chainmail shirt and then began stretching her neck, arms and legs. Melisande wondered how such a slender young woman could push herself so hard, helping her search even when both women were exhausted. “I did everything I could think of to distract them you’ve been spotted there. But they said they saw you singing in a tavern. That makes no sense.” Melisande looked lost in thought, and Adair continued her stretching exercises, her breathing growing calmer.

“It’s him,” Melisande muttered. “It has to be. I didn’t think he’d try it, after what happened last time...”

“You don’t mean Thomas?” Adair said. “That means..I knew I was right!” Like a shot, she was on her feet, ready to continue the search again.

“He must be hiding in plain sight, disguised as me. Go find Bernard and bring him here,” Melisande said. Soon Bernard, the one guard from the castle who had accompanied them, arrived. Melisande explained the situation to him as quickly as she could.

“But, your grace, would a prince do such a thing- pose as a woman? If it is Prince Thomas, people say he’s been displaying himself in public, singing while people throw money at him. It’s…unseemly,” Bernard said.

Melisande sighed and shook her head. “People mistake me for him, when I’m dressed like this and practicing my fencing. Why shouldn’t the reverse be true?” She was reluctant to reveal that Thomas had done the same thing when they were children. She knew that this had always been a source of shame for Thomas.

“My lady,” the guard said. “you always conduct yourself in a dignified way. A woman may need to defend herself at times, but, forgive me, this is very different-”

“I know my cousin,” Melisande said evenly. “He’s always hiding. When we played together as children, I could always find him. Now I’m going to bring him home.”

Adair nodded and picked up her sword. “We’ve done enough tracking. Let’s go get him.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the woods, life at home was uncertain- even after the previous night’s triumph, disguises, riches, and near-impossible escape.

“You’ve gotta get out of here,” Chuck told Dennis as they sat around the hearth. His twin was still fast asleep. “John was out late last night, telling Dorabella and Todd another one of his crazy stories.”

“What about Glen?”

“Oh, he gave up, wouldn’t even listen,” James said dismissively.

“But they’ll be on your track, and this is the first place they’re going to look,” Chuck interjected. “Dennis, you need a plan.”

“I can't exactly go back to my family. I don't think I'd be welcome,” Dennis said reluctantly.

"You actually have someone to go back to, so shut up," James said. "You already met my entire family." 

"You mean Chuck and John? But…you're not related,” Dennis said.

James exhaled, his eyes narrowed at Dennis. It was a brief look, but there was pure contempt in it. He rose from his chair and turned to leave.

"Hey, I didn't mean it that way,” Dennis said quickly. “I didn’t realize-“

James turned to face Dennis and held a hand up in dismissal. "I don't need your fucking pity. Just stay away from me." 

"You can tell me," Dennis said. 

Chuck stepped between the two men and addressed James. “Maybe we should tell him- not all the details, but let’s start from when you showed up. If we part ways, no one should be angry when we do it.”

“Like he’ll listen,” James said scornfully.

“It helps if someone knows where you’re coming from,” Chuck said evenly. “It did with you and me, remember?”

James gave him a hard stare. He went over to his wooden chair again and sat backward on it, his crossed elbows resting on the top of the chair. "Fine. We’ll take turns telling him.”

* * *

"Chuck," his mother said, not looking up from the fire she was tending to. "That barn door is open again, I can hear it rattling around. Couldn't you go out there and close it?" Eleanor was a solid-looking woman nearing forty, with large mild eyes that resembled Chuck’s. Her hair was as curly and John's, although she tried to keep most of it tied back in a bun. 

"But Mom," Chuck whined, "it's raining so hard.” Chuck had his slate and a worn nub of chalk in front of him, and was engaged in drawing a running horse. The slate was small and had a long crack running down one side, but it had been a lucky find for a boy whose family couldn’t afford ink, paper, or graphite sticks. Chuck was going to have to set the table in just a few minutes, and was trying to get his drawing done while he still had some time to himself. "You might not even hear the door, just some wind or thunder. Can't John do it?" 

'I'm not done shelling the peas and I still have to cut the carrots," John called. 

"He's right, I need to get this soup done," their mother said firmly. She continued poking at the fire, hoping that rain wouldn't get in through the chimney and douse the flame. "You don't want the pigs running away, or the chickens, do you?" She looked over to Chuck and her intent was written there on her face: _You're not getting away with this._

 _"_ Fine," Chuck grumbled. Chuck carefully put his slate down in his bedroom and put the little piece of chalk on top. He’d have to figure out how to get more chalk soon, he thought as he put on his thick wool cloak. Chuck flipped up the cloak’s hood and dashed outside to the barn. He was about to slam the barn door when he saw movement inside- and it wasn't the animals. He poked his head in and saw it was a boy who looked slightly younger than himself, with wide, staring eyes and a shabby hooded cloak over his head.

"W-who are you?" Chuck asked. 

"Get out," the longhaired boy said, brandishing a knife. It was a small knife, the kind one might use for whittling. 

"I live here," Chuck said, as if the boy had told him an obvious lie. "You can't just tell me to leave." He walked towards the boy to study him. He felt certain he'd never seen him in the village before. "You should be the one leaving!" he said, stepping forward. 

"Don't!" the boy yelled. His eyes were red. He'd obviously been crying. 

"But I'm not gonna hurt you," Chuck said as he put down his hood. He was unnerved, as anyone would be when confronted with a weapon, but he was also confused. Who was this strange boy, and if he had a weapon, why did he seem so frightened? 

'You couldn't hurt me if you tried," the boy hissed. "Get the hell away from me!" 

“Stay there, then,” Chuck yelled.

With rain bearing down on his back, Chuck ran back into the house and slammed the door behind him. 

"Where's the fire?" John asked. 

"There's a boy hiding in the barn," Chuck said. 

His mother’s eyes were wide with alarm, making her look oddly childlike. She put down the ladle she was holding and wiped her hands on her apron. "What? What boy?" 

"Kid my age, with a knife. I never saw him before. But I think he's crazy," Chuck whispered. 

“Well, that needs looking into,” Eleanor said, marching toward the door. “Show me where you found him.”

John rose up from the stool he was sitting on, and armed himself with a frying pan. “I’m coming too!” he said.

"John," his mother said firmly, "stay here." 

"But he's got a knife, Mom," John said. "What if you-"

"I'll be fine," his mother said, and her sons could tell she really believed it. “You stay here and hold down the fort, and Chuck and I will worry about each other.” Eleanor stopped to put on her long shawl, wrapping up to keep out the rain. She put her arm around Chuck and both they went outside.

"Let me go first," Chuck said when they reached the barn. She shook her head and went right on ahead of him. Chuck caught the door as she pushed it open. He was going to point to where the boy was, but the stranger was already armed and waiting.

"Hello," Eleanor said. The boy held his knife out like it was a huge, powerful sword, his teeth gritted in anger. He made no reply. "My goodness," she said, "You gave me and my boy a fright. But I think you're scared too."

"Get back!" the boy cried, even as he seemed to want to retreat deeper into the shadows.

"You don't have to use that," she said gently. "Come in the house and have some supper with us."

"Go to hell," the boy snarled. 

"There's no need to be rude," she said, her voice darkening. Eleanor suddenly reached out and snatched the little knife out of the boy's hand, tossing it into the hay. 

"No!" the boy cried, trying to go after it. But Eleanor reached out as he moved forward. She moved quickly enough to be able to hoist the boy’s skinny body up over her shoulders- as if she were carrying him away from a fire. He was tall, but very light, and she had often carried water this way on her family's old farm- on a yoke, over her shoulders, with a heavy bucket of water on each end. She had also raised many stubborn pigs and calves, and a teenage boy was easily comparable to these. "No, put me down!" the boy cried, squirming and trying to kick her. "Put me down, lady, I mean it! You're gonna be sorry!" 

Chuck couldn't stop laughing, which made the boy's face flush.

"Let's go inside," Eleanor grunted, heading for the barn door. 

Chuck managed to grab the boy's ankles and still his legs, but he continued to strike out with his fists. Walking in tandem, they got their struggling cargo to the front door of the little house. 

"Chuck, help your mother out and open the door," Eleanor said, wincing through every blow the boy tried to land. Chuck did, and the party entered with a loud thump and some angry muttering from the boy. John bolted up out of his seat. 

"All right, Mom!" John shouted. He picked up the frying pan again. "Let's bop him on the head with this, and Chuck can go find the Sheriff. Then we'll have helped him arrest a dangerous criminal, and he'll be so grateful that he'll give you the land-"

"Later, dear," Eleanor said, dumping the struggling boy on the floor. She sighed in relief. "All right, young man. What were you doing in our barn?"

"You're nuts!" the boy said, rubbing his knee where he had fallen. "I bet these aren't even your kids, and you stole 'em from some other family." 

'You can't talk to our mom that way," John said, waving the frying pan at their visitor. 

Eleanor laughed. "My hero," she said to John, who beamed. She turned back to the boy, who looked like a drowned rat. His clothes, hair and face had been soaked in the rain, and he was shivering. "As you can see, you're outnumbered, and I was good enough to bring you in before you caught a chill in that rain. I think you're in no place to keep yelling at us. So who are you and what do you want?" 

"I got nowhere to go," the boy said flatly. "I was trying to get warm." 

"What's your name?" Chuck asked. 

"James." 

"Well," Eleanor said, exhaling and relaxing her posture. "Now we're getting somewhere. Thank you, James. John, set another place for dinner." 

___________________________________________________

Shortly, James was licking soup off his face and confirmed that: yes, he ate like someone who hadn't eaten in two days because he hadn't eaten in three. 

"How old are you?" Eleanor asked. 

"13," he said. 

"You're a year younger than my boys and taller than both of them," she remarked, passing James more bread. 

"Don't remind me," Chuck muttered. 

"Where are you from- Abbieannia?" she asked. 

James shook his head. "Um, Acheron." 

“My goodness, that's a few days south of here," Eleanor said. "How did you get all the way out to these woods?" 

"My group...we got separated." 

"Your family?" John said. 

James shook his head. "Don't have one." 

"Are you an orphan?" James wouldn't answer Eleanor anymore until she asked if he would like to spend the night. He nodded tentatively, and that night he bunked down in John's bed in the bedroom the twins shared, while John stayed in Eleanor's bed. Eleanor herself made up a little pallet on her bedroom floor. She wished James a good night and before she retired, she kissed the little wooden cross that hung on the wall between their bedrooms. Eleanor then crossed herself, and opened her eyes to see James watching her with a wary expression. 

"Are you all right, James?" she asked. Chuck, who'd been watching, was just as confused. James nodded. "Sleep well, then." 

"Night," James said, then hurriedly added: "Thank you." He pushed past Chuck and dove into bed, cocooning himself in the blankets. 

The night passed peacefully, and the next morning, James was invited to stay as long as he liked. Eleanor also offered to go into town with him and try to send a message back to Acheron. "Where were you staying?" 

James wouldn't answer her and stalked out of the house into the woods. He did come back for supper, but said nothing at the table and went to the bedroom immediately afterwards. Chuck's patience was wearing thin. Eleanor had said that James would open up when he was ready, and had obviously been through a lot. "He's hurting. He needs time. I don't think he had any time before," she'd said. 

"Who hurt him, his parents?" Chuck asked. 

"I don't know," his mother said sadly. "It could have been anyone, but I know myself- being let down by someone you thought cared for you...that's the worst feeling there is." She hugged Chuck and motioned for John to come over. "I'd never let that happen to you two." 

“Us too, mom," John said, joining the hug. Chuck pulled away and went to follow James. He found their visitor on the bed, curled up in the fetal position and breathing heavily. 

"What's the matter with you?" Chuck asked.

"Stop asking!" 

"Did you run away from home?" James threw a pillow at his head. He ducked, but Chuck was frustrated, not afraid. "I'm just asking if there's somebody after you. If they do come, I don't want anything to happen to my mom and John!" He frowned and shuffled his feet. "You too, I guess." 

"Your mom and brother will be fine," James said. "I wouldn't let anything happen to them- it's my problem. That's all you need to know." 

"I don't believe you," Chuck said. "I don't even want you here. You're angry all the time, you didn't help us with our chores today, and you're probably crazy. If it wasn't for Mom, I'd get rid of you." 

James, silent and obstinate, pulled the blankets over his head and pretended to be asleep. Soon Chuck went to bed, but he woke in the middle of the night. He could hear voices outside- including James. _He's actually talking?_ Chuck thought. Chuck grabbed his mother's frying pan from the kitchen and eased himself out into the dark. He could see James standing right outside the barn. He was talking to a taller, unfamiliar figure in a wide-brimmed hat, who was holding a bag. The stranger took something out of the bag, and Chuck wanted to get closer to see what that something was. Then the object caught the moonlight and Chuck almost gasped. It was gold- it was a monstrance, the ornate frame used to display the Blessed Sacrament at church. He didn't recognize it from his family's Sunday visits. The one at their simple church wasn’t so large, nor was it studded with colored stones like this one. So where had it come from? The person holding it removed their hat, and Chuck saw it was a tall boy just a little older than himself. 

"We'll get plenty for it, now that nobody here knows us. Lucky that you took the altar cloth too, I wouldn't have thought of that." the boy was saying. "You know, the others thought you’d get caught, but not me. I never did.”

"Yeah," James muttered, hanging his head. Chuck's heart froze. _James stole from a church, and admitted to it?_

"Oh, stop," the boy said. “Your secret’s safe.”

"Sister Agnes must be really upset," James said. "Is she okay?" 

"I've been gone too," the boy said in a very superior way. "The gang came the day after you left, remember?" 

"Sorry," James muttered, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

"You did so well," the older boy said softly. He reached out and started stroking James's hair. James flinched. "What's the matter?" the older boy said, his voice hardening. "You're not glad to see me?" 

"Just lay off," James said. His voice was half pleading, half angry. He crossed his arms in front of him, as if he were cold. "I got everything you wanted. You don't need anymore, right? We're good." 

"Don't," the boy said harshly. He lay the bag down on the ground and stepped closer to James. 

"W-what’d I do?" Suddenly, James seemed smaller and younger to Chuck, like a frightened animal. "Don't be mad, Phillip, everything's ok. You'll wake everyone!" 

"Don't roll your eyes at me. If I told the people in this house who you really were, they'd send you right back, you shit." He reached out and slapped James across the face. James reeled back- he'd been hit hard, and Chuck could hear how it must have hurt. But James made no sound, even as the boy continued to yell at him.

 _James has been hit like that before,_ Chuck realized with horror.

"You want to go back there? I’m not gonna be around if you get picked on, or if you’re trying to sleep and someone decides to mess with you!” Phillip added.

"Please don't make me go back," James said, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry. I...I won't do it again-" 

"Leave him alone," Chuck said, holding the frying pan up over his head. 

"Chuck, no," James said. He sounded near tears. "Go inside." 

"Who the hell is this? Is he your sweetheart, James?” Phillip said. Chuck could see him a little better now- he was light-skinned, with dark hair and a boyish, wide-eyed face that didn't match his cruel voice. Sneering, he added:"I guess you don't need me to protect you anymore. If your pretty boy wants to fight me, he should put that frying pan down and fight me like a man.”

“Shut up!" James cried. He landed a punch on Phillip's jaw. Phillip fired back, instinctively- Chuck could see he knew just where to aim to hurt James. But there wasn't a second to lose, so Chuck ran over and brained Phillip with the frying pan. He fell roughly to the ground. 

"Thanks," James said, wiping his bloody lower lip. 

"We can ask the blacksmith to go get the Sheriff," Chuck said. "It's a short ride for him, and we'll keep Phillip there til the Sheriff comes. I'll get John to help us." 

"Don't tell your mom," James said. "She'd never forgive me if she knew I stole from a church." 

"She's gonna find out," Chuck said sternly. "Come on. She never gets mad if we tell her the truth." 

“I don’t know….” James said, then looked over at Phillip’s prone body. “Maybe.”

____________________________________________________

The next afternoon, there was a knock at the door. 

"Afternoon, Mrs," the Sheriff said. He looked at Eleanor, and when he said 'Mrs.", his expression said that he was only pretending she still had a husband.

“Hello again, Sheriff,” Eleanor said, only opening the door slightly to conceal that James was with them.”

"Your twins certainly had an adventure last night,” the Sheriff said. “You a woman alone with two young boys, being set upon by a thief.”

“Hide,” John hissed to James. “Go into our room and shut the door.”

"We couldn't well have a thief stealing our pigs and chickens," Eleanor said pleasantly, "or...trespassing on your land, Sheriff. Thank you for your help, of course.”

James began tiptoeing over to the bedroom door, but the floor of the little house kept creaking under him. He winced.

 _Maybe if he opens the door slowly,_ Chuck thought, _it won’t make a sound. Maybe he’ll be ok._

"Just doing my civic duty,” he said, inclining his head. “The thief’s fate was decided this morning- he’ll be extradited back to Acheron and tried there, as will the group he told us he was traveling with- once we've found them. The treasures are on their way back to the church...but if you recall, the thief mentioned a younger boy, his accomplice. Have you seen him, or perhaps your boys have?" The Sheriff poked his head in, and spotted James, in the middle of opening the door. James froze in utter terror. 

"That's just my nephew," Eleanor said. "My sister's boy. Say hello, James." 

"Ma’am," the Sheriff said, "We both know that is not your nephew." 

"I'm responsible for him," she said, in a voice that meant 'I will kill you where you stand.’ "He's a good boy." 

"Well," the Sheriff replied. For a slow, horrible moment, he regarded James, who still hadn’t moved. "Why don't I just consider this extra tenant part of your husband's back taxes? We’ll add five percent to your yearly payment and no one need know about him- as long as your 'nephew' stays out of trouble." 

Chuck and John almost cried foul, but Eleanor held herself straight and said: "That’ll be just fine, Sheriff." 

The Sheriff left with a curt nod, and finally, Eleanor slammed the door. James ran right up to her, pleading: "You didn't have to." 

"You were a ward of the church, weren't you?" Eleanor said. She put a hand on James's shoulder. "You lived there?"

James only said: “I’m not going back.”

"James," she replied, "I know you and this older boy were close. But did he….hurt you?” James seemed to retreat into himself a little and didn't answer. She continued: "James, when someone you care for hurts you, it's a terrible thing. But it’s not your fault, and I understood why you ran away.”

“You mean I don’t have to go back?” James said softly.

"Never," Eleanor said, and she embraced him. “It’ll take time, but I hope you understand you’re safe here, with us.”


	15. Interlude/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start RIGHT after our flashback from the previous chapter and catch up with everyone.  
> My work isn't wholesome, but I like writing it. I hope you're enjoying it.

Interlude: _Back to the Present_

“I had no idea,” Dennis whispered. He didn’t know where to begin, given all the pain James must have been through in the past, and how much his life had changed since meeting Chuck and John. What could he say or do in light of that? It was as if he were really meeting James for the first time, or finally seeing him as a whole person.

“Well, you do now,” James said. “Hope that satisfied you.”

“It’s not a matter of satisfying some curiosity about you,” Dennis said. “I acted pretty shamefully the entire time I’ve been here, and I’m sorry. I appreciate you giving me enough of a chance to tell me about yourself, and I’m done acting like I’m above you guys. You three have been through enough.”

James pushed his chair back and impatiently tapped his foot. “We’re gonna hold you to that.”

“You haven’t been too congenial yourself,” Dennis said.

“I didn’t trust you.”

“Tommy never told me how you two met,” Dennis said. “Why’d you trust him?”

“That’s none of your business!” James cried.

“Okay, okay,” Dennis said, holding up his hands in a _mea culpa._ “No one’s perfect, and you have reasons not to trust people.”

James nodded and held out his hand. “Okay, I’m sorry too. We’re good?”

Dennis returned the handshake, this time with a firmer grip. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Thank god,” Chuck said. “Well, are you going to leave? You did win that money. What happens to us isn’t your problem anymore.”

Dennis warily looked around. He felt he needed to find Tommy, and to move on….but he would miss Chuck and John, and things with James were certainly more complicated now. It seemed callous to just leave without another thought. Other than finding Tommy, he had no idea what he would even do once he left.

“If things do cool down…” He wanted to add ‘if I don’t end up in Marwencol too’ but that would only ensure just how callous he could be. Couldn’t it be possible, he thought with faint hope, that Tommy could have feelings for both himself and James? “Could I come by and see you guys? I haven’t really made any friends out on the road before.”

Chuck replied: "Sure, as long as escape from this with our lives. The Sheriff's already breathing down our necks."

“He’s not here, is he?” said John, entering as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I told him not to come…”

“Not yet,” Chuck assured him. He fussed over his brother a little, thanking him and giving him a large mug of tea and the most comfortable chair to sit on.

“Told ‘em everything I could think of. They probably didn’t believe a word,” John muttered. He jerked forward in his place at the table, suddenly noticing the big bag of money in the center. “Oh my god, we actually got the money! I almost forgot!”

“Me too,” James said. “Man, while we have a minute where nobody’s tailing us, let me just say…I think we kicked ass up there, last night.”

“We did,” Chuck said, nodding. “We certainly did, in spite of it all. It…didn’t run smoothly, but I’ve gotta give you this much credit, Dennis: you got us out of there. And you were great about lining up those pieces after, John, as always.” John smiled and lifted his mug in salute.

“Well, I had a good cover,” Dennis said, attempting to swing for modesty and missing.

“Oh, it’s a great cover,” James said, a little too earnestly. “You’re clearly not me, so you don’t blow MY cover, AND you keep your own. And best of all, everyone forgets what a stuck-up little snot you really are.”

Dennis looked like James just insulted his mother. “I am not… _little.”_

James cackled at this. In between long, shaking laughs, John said: “It’s just funny….we’re not laughing at you.”

Only Chuck refused to smile.

“ _James_ ,” Chuck said, as if he were a schoolmaster and James was due for the dunce cap.

James shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know how you pulled it off, but good job. We're good." Tentatively, he and Dennis shook hands again.

"Sorry," John muttered, even though no one had asked him to apologize. "Besides, I'm in way worse shape: this lying thing is finally starting to catch up with me. I finally get a chance to talk to the girl I've had a crush on, and she likes some fake version of me. This really sucks." 

"I know a lot happened last night, but there is something we're forgetting," Chuck reminded everyone. "Or, should I say, someone." There was no need to finish, they knew who Chuck meant. 

"I don’t know. I'm worried sick about him," Dennis sighed. “It’s like I can’t think.”

“I know how you feel," James said quietly. 'Listen- I know it's safer if he and I don't travel together, but I think I'm gonna try and catch up with him." 

'Then I'm going with you!" Dennis said, rising from the table. 

"Look, we both know that's a rotten idea," James said. "You barely made it out of the village alive!" 

"I...” Dennis was certain that Tommy had real feelings for him. And if Tommy knew about this other persona of his, the one who had defended their group ...surely he'd not only be impressed, but realize it was true love and they were meant to be together? _Oh, I know I sound like an idiot, but I can't help it._ "The last thing I want is for the cops to figure out your role in this, Chuck." 

"Okay, then if we leave at the same time, we leave at the same time," James said firmly. "But we've only got one horse; so I'll let you ride with me for half a day and then you're on your own, got that?" Dennis nodded.

"You're both leaving for real? But James, what if something goes wrong-how can we get in touch with you?" John said worriedly. "And Dennis, I feel like you've already been here a lot longer than you really have. This is a lot!" John looked over at his twin: "Bro? What do you think about all this?"

"If this is what they want, we just have to deal with it," Chuck said. "It makes sense." But the stiffness in his voice could not be ignored, and Dennis noticed that his eyes would't meet James's. _He's devastated,_ Dennis thought, _but doesn't want James to know._

John had no such compunctions. There were already tears in his eyes, but James went to reassure him: "I promise I will find a way to get in touch with you. I don't know when, but I'll figure something out." James beckoned for Chuck to come over: "You okay?" 

"I'm fine. I don't have to like it, but I'm fine," Chuck said, straightening up the room and continuing to avoid looking at anyone. Dennis felt more out of place than ever. _I wish there was something I could do,_ he thought, a little pang sticking at his heart. Still lost in detachment, Chuck divvied up the money among the four of them. 

“Well,” he said flatly, “come get what you need.”

* * *

As all this was happening, Tommy was beginning his ride- a ride he didn’t quite realize was going to be over 130 miles to the port of Eridanos. And Melisande was trying to make her way towards Tommy, certain he was not yet far from home. Her It was Adair who rode on ahead and inquired at the Golden Stag about the mysterious singer who matched Lady Melisande's description. A few people who had seen Tommy were able to point out the direction in which he rode (although the singer's gender was still up for debate). 

As Adair was leaving, Glen announced he was going to follow her, and roped Todd into going along with him. "We've gotta go, Bella," he said, gesturing towards his female deputy. 

'I'm going to see John and check this out with him," Dorabella said. "I feel like there's more to this story than we know. Someone's stretching the truth, or there's some kind of misunder-"

"We don't have time for that," Glen said. "This is a real lead! Let's get going, Todd." 

"Let me know what you find out," Todd called as Glen dragged him away. 

Dorabella gritted her teeth and ran outside. As Glen and Todd left her in the dust, she jumped on her gray palfrey to ride over to John's. "Come on, Evie," she said, patting her mount's head. "We don't need his permission to do anything. Let's go see John." But as she was preparing to ride away, Vidya came out and stopped her.

"Hey, if you're going to see John, can you take this with you?" she asked Dorabella, handing her a letter. "I know John is a suspect in the case, but a man from Abbieannia left it for Chuck." Dorabella nodded, but Vidya asked her: "What do you make of all this? The highwayman revealing himself, and all. He even stole my clothes from...well, whoever that was, onstage. James and I were close once, so I can’t believe he’d do something like this.”

"That's what I'm going to try and find out," Dorabella said. "I'm gonna crack the case and find Lady Melisande and her connection to the highwayman. Maybe even if Prince Thomas is still alive." 

"Well, I hope you do," Vidya said. "They practically trashed my bar. Although the publicity will probably be good for business. Good luck, Dorabella." 


	16. Is Honesty the Best Policy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and John each face some relationship complications, and Tommy's forced to confront his past. JY and Dennis bicker AGAIN, but then things really go haywire.

Dorabella arrived with Chuck’s letter in hand, and was shocked when John gave her a large bag. “Tell Vidya thank you,” John said. “I recovered it from the highwayman and his um, associates. Everything she gave him should be in there.”

“That is nice of you. Come on, let’s talk this out. I want the real story,” Dorabella said.

“Okay, you should sit down,” John said, pointing off towards the edge of their land, “By the little rose plant over there. I’ll be right back, I’ll put the letter inside.” He stuck his head in the house and hissed: “Chuck. There’s a letter for you and Dorabella’s here. Go in the root cellar and hide.” He handed the letter to Chuck and left. John’s brother went off like a shot, out the back door in total silence.John, diverting Dorabella’s attention, walked over to her and said, “Get comfy. Anything you want to know, I’ll do my best to answer.”

“I want the whole truth this time,” she said. John nodded enthusiastically, hoping she didn’t see right through him. ‘Tell me everything you know about the other singer. Who are they, really? Why is it nobody can agree on how they looked, or their gender, do you think?" 

"She...came with the highwayman. I didn't know her,” John faltered. “They met by chance, as far as I know- I don’t really know what Lady Melisande looks like, so I never suspected her. But the highwayman- he doesn’t talk much about his personal life. Like I said, I got roped into helping him because I thought I could get my family’s land back.”

"I understand. Look, I know this sounds crazy," the deputy said, lowering her voice. "But I had this thought- I told Todd late last night and he said it did make some sense, but it sounded a little far-fetched. Glen just laughed it off. Do you promise not to laugh?"

'I won't," John assured her.

Excitedly, she leaned forward and began, her hands gesturing all the while. "What if the highwayman’s lover is _Prince Thomas_ in disguise, not Lady Melisande? They're the same height and about the same weight. Everyone says they look alike- well, they all say a man like that, who's had so many female lovers, wouldn't do something like that. I mean, I got a kiss from him at the coronation festival last year...but so did a lot of girls, that afterparty was pretty wild. He even kissed the guy juggling swords! The king didn’t see that, but I bet he would’ve been mad.”

“Oh.” John was very, very glad Dorabella had not actually seen the band perform, or their entire story would have fallen apart in seconds. “You sure are good at…critical thinking.”

Meanwhile, Chuck was crouched in the cellar. He lit the stump of an old tallow candle he’d stored on a shelf, for emergencies. Then he the tore open the letter John had given him, unsure of what to expect. It read: _Dear Charles, I am truly impressed by your team’s extraordinary talents. The actor you had playing the highwayman was quite engaging. He wasn’t very threatening, but he had a truly commanding presence. It was some of the best improvisational theatre I’ve ever seen._

“Shit,” Chuck said under his breath. “My brother and I both finally meet someone like you wanted, and we feed ‘em a bunch of lies. You must really be laughing your head off at this, Mom…”

_I would like to discuss your revolutionary approach to theatre and the possibility of booking your company on a small tour. Perhaps we could meet for dinner? Preferably not in Abbieannia, as I don’t wish this to be uncomfortable. But I would like to get to know you better._

‘Hector, you charming, wonderful _idiot_ ,” Chuck groaned. He was about to run outside and scream to John that they had to come clean and tell Dorabella everything, but he heard hoofbeats in the distance.

A royal guard came riding up to the house. “I’m looking for the sheriff,” the guard said, stopping where Dorabella and John had sat down. “The king’s guards made an arrest under his area of jurisdiction. The tavern-keeper told me you are acting deputy when he’s not around?”

Dorabella nodded. “Who have you arrested?”

“The highwayman who haunts the woods,” the guard said proudly. John went pale. “You’d better come with us, ma’am. The king will want to oversee his trial personally, since he was consorting with Lady Melisande.”

“The big break in the case!” Dorabella cried. “This is it. John, you have to come testify!”

“No!” John cried. He whispered to her as he tried to stall for time: “Please, Dorabella- I can’t put Chuck or James in danger. If I testify, the highwayman’s associates will come after Chuck next. I’m your…anonymous source. Let’s keep it that way, ok?”

“Okay,” Dorabella said, squeezing John’s hand. She turned back to the guard. “I better come with you. I’ve faced the highwayman before. Take care, John.”

As the two of them rode off, John ran to the cellar, yelling: “Chuck! I got a problem!”

“You’re not the only one. I have a feeling this is just the beginning,” Chuck said as he showed John the letter. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Melisande knew Tommy's habits well. She knew he would ride down a less-traveled path and not want to tire out his horse. When Adair told her where he'd last been seen, she headed there at once and stuck close to water. She knew Tommy and his horse would need it for the long journey. In fact, he was kneeling by a little spring and filling his waterskin when he saw two reflections in the water- his own, and a nearly identical one hovering over his shoulder. He spun around. "Sandy!" This was a name that only he called her. He’d started calling her that when he was very small, and had difficulty pronouncing his cousin’s full name. 

She smiled ruefully at him and said: "I finally found you." He noticed she was wearing her armor and had pulled her hair back in a braid, making her look older and more serious than usual. _She looks like a real leader,_ he thought, _not me._ "I knew I was getting close once I heard someone was pretending to be me. Where's your disguise?" 

"I took it off,” he said. “No wonder you didn't like wearing a skirt when you rode, it's damn near impossible. But listen, everybody thinks I really am you. Can you believe it? It's like we're kids all over again." 

She laughed mirthlessly. "I don’t know why they thought you were me, everyone knows I can't sing a note.” They hugged, but when they let go, Melisande had a disappointed expression. "Where the hell did you think you were going, Tommy?" 

"It's a long story," he said softly. 

"My back's killing me," she muttered. "Tell me while I get this off." She struggled to get her chestplate off, and he helped her as he told her about his adventures.

"Melisande!" Adair cried, riding up to the two cousins. 'We've got to get out of here- two men are following me." 

Tommy knew Adair and his cousin were close and was not surprised to see her, but asked: "What two men, what did they look like?" He was secretly hoping it was two of his friends. 

"Never mind that," Melisande said, leaping onto her white charger. "It's time you stopped running away from your problems. You're coming home with us and we're going to pretend none of this happened." 

"Forget it," Tommy said defiantly. "You don't want to marry me, either!" But as soon as he said it, Glen and Todd rode onto the scene. 

"Look what we got here," Glen said his chin lifted as he played the noble hero. "No wonder people were confused. You two really do look alike- what are you, siblings? Is it even legal for you to marry each other?" Both cousins bristled at this remark, but Glen just laughed at his own joke, adding: "Well, I'm not sure which one of you was onstage the other night. Looks like I'll be collecting the reward for both of you runaways." 

"But I didn't run away!" Melisande said. "I only left to look for him because the guards couldn't find him. And I have an official escort from the palace," she added, indicating Adair. 

"Sorry, sweetie," Glen said. "As far as the Borovnian government is concerned, you're both fugitives. Cuff 'em, Todd." 

“I’m _supposed_ to read them their rights,” Todd said wearily. “Actually, _you_ were supposed to…”

“Look, I wanted to nab the highwayman too,” Glen said. “But we found the lady who ran off, and most importantly, the prince. We’ll probably be national heroes!” Adair cried out in anger as the sheriff slapped his set of cuffs on Melisande, and she jumped off her horse when Todd moved to arrest Tommy.

“You can’t!” Adair cried, brandishing her sword and running toward him.

“Wait!” Tommy said. “Okay, Sheriff, we’ll come with you. But tell me- the highwayman’s been arrested, so what did he look like?” When Glen gave a description of Dennis, Tommy said nothing. But he wondered just what kind of trouble James and Dennis had gotten themselves into this time.

__________________________________________________

Dennis was seated unsteadily behind James on Antares- the thief’s long legs meant that Dennis had to fold himself up a bit to fit on the saddle. This was only adding to the tension on their ride. They hadn’t spoke for some time. Finally, Dennis said: ‘After all this, you’re just gonna give me the silent treatment?”

“You wanna talk? Well, let me tell you something. This isn’t a matter of him choosing you over me. Whatever’s happened between you and him…he _wanted_ to go away with me, ok? He never promised you anything like that.”

“I think he can decide that for himself,” Dennis said coolly, doing his best to hold his ground.

“He barely knows you!” James cried.

“You know, you said you’d stop bickering with me and you never did. If you’re going to act like that, I might as well go on foot.”

“Don’t do me any favors!” James said. He abruptly pulled back on the reins, making Antares stop in alarm. The horse was none the worse for wear, but the sudden stop made Dennis fall off the horse’s back. “You better start walking,” James snarled, and then spurred the horse on ahead. Dennis was left behind in a cloud of dust, with nothing but his pack and the concertina. _Oh god_ , he thought, _I hope I haven’t broken a rib._ His head was reeling, and it threw his doubts into clearer focus. _What am I doing?_ He thought. _I lost a friend, a safe place to stay…my pursuit of Tommy might actually be pointless. Maybe in trying to get away, I’ve just been digging myself deeper and getting into more trouble._ He got to his feet and tried to keep walking, but in about two hours, he came upon the royal guards camping in the woods. He deduced that it would be easy enough for him to avoid them, but to his horror, a voice cried out- ‘That’s him! The highwayman!” Four more men jumped out of the bushes, and overtook him. Hoping against hope, he looked for James…but whether he was hoping for James rescue him or have the thief there to take the blame, Dennis couldn’t quite say. _How do I know that voice?_ he thought, as the guards bound his hands and pointed their swords at his throat.

“Come along quietly, highwayman,” the guard said. But the guard wasn’t the one who had identified Dennis- it was the man triumphantly smiling right next to him: Karl. 

“You’ve got the wrong guy,” Dennis said weakly. 

“Then why do you match the description he gave us?” another guard said, indicating Karl.

“You still have your necklace on!” Karl laughed. Mortified, Dennis realized they were right. He’d slept with the necklace on and totally forgotten about it. 

“Your name, highwayman. What’ll be on your death warrant?”

“No name,” he whispered, but the sword points drew closer. Dennis tried to think of what James would say, and gave a name that he partly derived from the real highwayman’s: “J-Jonas. Robert Jonas, of…Marwencol.”

“Figures you would come from a lawless country like that,” another guard hissed.

"Jonas, you're under arrest for attempted kidnapping, threatening the royal family, armed robbery..." the first guard continued to read off a very trumped-up series of charges as the second slipped a pair of shackles around Dennis's wrists. 

“I…I haven’t robbed anyone!” Dennis cried. The biggest and burliest of the guards smacked Dennis in the face with his tough leather gauntlet.

“You seduced Lady Melisande, you whoreson,” he said. “You tried to ruin her before her wedding!”

The poet rubbed his smarting face as the words sunk in. “ _Ruin_ her?” Now Dennis was nearly apoplectic. “That thing with the ribbon was a joke, a stupid joke... The person I was talking about was not Melisande! Just ask her, I don’t even know her! And my mother is NOT a whore, thank you very mu-” The guard smacked Dennis again.

“Why don’t you tell that to the king?” the first guard said, and tightened the irons on Dennis’s wrists. “He’s had his eye on you for a while, highwayman. Now, you’ll get what’s always been coming to you.”

“What about a trial?” Dennis cried.

‘Strictly a formality,” one of the other guards said. Karl laughed louder than all the guards put together.

Far back, among the trees, James was watching, still on horseback. He saw it all happen- Dennis stumbling into the guards’ camp and getting arrested, and then being carried off in shackles. _I should do something_ , he told himself. _It is me they want._ But he couldn’t make himself ride over and confess, or try to rescue Dennis. He asked himself why as he saw the guards ride away. _It’s not just spite, from before_ , his mind said, urging him onward. _Why is it? You’re afraid. You’re afraid if you turn yourself in, you’ll lose Tommy and wind up rotting in prison, while he ends up trapped in a loveless marriage- or worse, takes up with Dennis while you’re gone._ His self-pity turned to anger: _Jesus, James, listen to yourself! How would that be worse? It wouldn’t,_ he admitted _. I only want him to be with me, no one else. I’m being selfish._

 _Well, he bailed me out. I can try to do the same for him_ , James thought. He wished Antares could speak to him, that his friend might offer him some words of encouragement. What would he say, if he could speak? _He’d probably tell me I can’t do it alone,_ James thought _. That I need his help, and Chuck and John’s._

He rode on ahead to the castle.


End file.
